


I'm not saying goodbye

by LaMarwy



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Attempted Sexual Assault, Drama, Drama & Romance, Established Relationship, F/F, False Memories, Family Reunions, Foreplay, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Love Confessions, Memory Loss, Miscarriage (past), Past / Present, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Public Sex, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Second first kiss, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:35:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 138,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaMarwy/pseuds/LaMarwy
Summary: It's Zelda and Lilith's sixth anniversary and Zelda is waiting for her wife to return from a work trip. Late at night, the police knocks at the door and tells her that the plane on which Lilith was embarked has crashed. Zelda is devastated, she wonders how she's going to survive, but right after the funeral, she receives a phone call: there's a woman at the hospital who could be her wife. Zelda's prayers are answered, but due to the crash, Lilith has lost her memory and believes she's someone else.The tender journey of Lilith and Zelda's love story, between past and present, where the past is deliciously still and the present is moving fearfully fast.[Non-Magical AU]
Relationships: Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Comments: 552
Kudos: 352





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I just needed to get this chapter out of me, so the updates will be inconsistent, to say the least. Yeah, sorry. Don't hate me (seriously, I know you'd have the right to do so by the end of this prologue, but don't).  
> Tumblr: @mementomori-demimonde
> 
> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> insta: lamarwy_ao3

Video trailer " _I'm not saying goodbye_ ": https://youtu.be/nZgnDuBtQlQ

****

**CHAPTER 1 - prologue**

«Did you hear that, Hilda?» Zelda looked outside the window, the strange noise still lingering in her ears, unidentified. She straightened her back as if it could help her see better, dropping the spoon into the bowl in front of her as she immediately stopped stirring, much to Hilda's disappointment. 

«What, love?» Her sister asked, looking up at her with a bright smile.

Zelda narrowed her eyes. «That… blast.» She said, her voice somewhat lost.

Hilda shrugged. «Maybe they are blowing up something in the mines.»

«At this hour? Besides, it was too distant.» She stood and waited, thinking it was also strange that it had been a single blow since in the mines they would use multiple dynamites. They lived there their whole life, she knew the difference between a controlled blast from the mines and… something else.

«Well, don’t worry about that now.» Hilda suggested.

The other woman sighed, willing to trust her sister. After all, she was unquiet for other reasons, in a good way, of course… she was impatient. Her blood pressure was already up without the need of adding more thoughts to the pot. That night was for her and Lilith and she wouldn’t have it any other way: at midnight - or the witching hour, as Lilith loved to call it - they would celebrate their sixth anniversary; a small thing, of course, just a cake and champagne for the rest of the family. Lilith had been so eager to return home that she ran off the last conference she hosted and embarked on the first plane available to Riverdale. In the last text she sent, she told Zelda she would be home late, around ten-thirty that same night.

Zelda was over the moon since she was expecting her wife back not before tomorrow and quickly mobilized the whole family for a proper welcome home. At the mere thought of being reunited after three weeks, she felt like tearing up.

She played distractedly with the mixture, gave it a lazy stir, and then licked the spoon absent-mindedly, letting the sweet and familiar taste of chocolate soothe her spirit. Hilda glared at her, even though there was a grin creeping out of her lips, and threatened with the knife she was holding.

«Oi! Stop it or we won’t be able to make it into a cake.»

Zelda breathed in, shaking herself out of the daze, and licked her lips clean before passing the bowl over to her sister’s expert hands. She watched, resting her chin in her hand, letting Hilda’s controlled movements capture her in that quiet routine. In a blink, all her negative thoughts disappeared, easily replaced by her memories: the first time Lilith had to leave for Europe, the happiness when she came back, their first anniversary, when they wanted to celebrate with a trip, but then became both so nostalgic that they returned home right away to dine with Hilda, Ambrose, and Sabrina. She could almost taste already tomorrow’s lunch, Hilda’s vegetable pie, and the roast beef, and she would sit next to Lilith, holding her hand under the table, craving any kind of touch. But before that, after the little midnight party, they would celebrate on their own, in their bedroom. Yes, there was a lot to celebrate.

She smiled to herself and sighed. «So, how long will it take?»

Hilda beamed as she closed the oven. «Couple of hours to cook and a little more to settle. Perfect timing.» She stated, proudly. «Would you like to watch a movie?»

Zelda glanced over the grandfather clock that peeked from the hallway. It was still early and maybe a movie was just the right thing she needed to distract herself and let time flow faster. She nodded, climbed down from the stool, and followed Hilda in the living room, where Ambrose and Sabrina were, as usual, fighting over the movie to watch. She would normally ask silence, force them to flip a coin to decide who had the privilege to select, but that night she just sat on the couch, watching her nephews argue and laughing as they threw each other snacks, some of which would roll close enough for Vinegar Tom to lazily push out his tongue and eat.

Lilith would have loved that. She giggled, covering her mouth behind her hand when the image of her wife stealing the remote to engage in a little wrestling session with them appeared in her mind, then, when the movie was finally selected, she focused on it, or trying to focus on it, since after twenty minutes in they were all rubbing their eyes, struggling to stay awake, but refusing to start another fight for another film. She rested head on the back of the couch and tucked her legs under her as her mind drifted off again: the first movie they watched together when they were both so already smitten with each other that no one even understood what was going on, and then all the series they watched together in bed, all the episodes they paused before she left. Zelda took out the phone, reading the time. She should just have landed hours ago and was probably on her way to drop things at her office before heading home; it was not terribly late, of course, but she blamed it on the frequent delays in the small airport of Riverdale and less probable, on the traffic. Strange thing, though, she hadn’t called or texted yet.

She forced herself not to panic yet, exhaling slowly when Hilda’s hand reached hers, almost as if she could read her mind. Zelda smiled in gratitude, and after curling under the blanket, she closed her for a moment, mindlessly playing with the ring on her left fourth finger, feeling the cold stone under her thumb. It had become a habit of hers right after the engagement and always helped her feeling Lilith close even when she was not.

And then the bell rang. They all startled, looking at each other with confused frowns, silently asking who could be, since Lilith had the key. Zelda noticed the red and blue light shimmering silently from outside the window. 

«The police?» She wondered, utterly confused.

«I’ll get it.» Hilda hurried, getting up and speeding to the hallway.

Zelda sat up and curiously kept an ear out.

«Zelda Spellman?» The officer presumably said.

«No. That is my sister.» She heard Hilda reply, her voice, however, was flat and professional, meaning she wasn’t talking to any officer from Greendale since they all used to dine at her fiancè’s bookstore. «Zelda, darling, it’s for you!» She yelled.

Zelda felt her heart racing for some reason. As she sped down the hallway, heels hitting the parquetry as she walked, she wondered who could it be, what had happened in the world that required her presence spoiling the sweet awaiting of her wife the evening prior to her anniversary.

When Zelda reached the door, she studied the police officer, her eyes roaming around his uniform. He came from the neighboring city. Hilda scrambled behind her as she walked forward.

«Zelda Spellman?» He inquired.

«Yes.» She saw him lowering his head, flipping pages over on his charter. She was already prompt to say that there had been a mistake, whatever thing he might come up with, but her confidence drained out when he mentioned Lilith’s name.

«Was your wife embarked on the 066136 to Riverdale?»

Zelda heaved a long sigh, «Yes,» she confirmed, her brain working fast as she tried to understand what it was. It was just like three years ago when the idiot had insisted upon bringing home an awfully ancient spear and of course she had troubles at the check-in; what kind of dreadful artifact was she trying to sneak in now? «Is there a problem with her luggage, perhaps?»

The officer’s face, however, told her she didn’t guess right.

«No, ma’am.» He sighed, then offered a reassuring smile, which only caused Zelda’s heart to drop. «I’m sorry, there’s no easy way to tell you this.» She clenched her jaw, her hand flew instinctively to her stomach as she braced herself. Hilda’s hand sliding into hers was of no use. «I have the ungrateful task to inform you that the plane has crashed in the forest outside Riverdale due to an engine failure. There are no survivors.»


	2. The art of losing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspired by Elizabeth Bishop's poem- oh c'mon, you know which one. Sorry for the drama, sapphics, I promise it gets better.
> 
> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡

AN: Flashbacks in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 2 - The art of losing**

_«Keep your eyes closed!» Lilith warns, pure excitement coming from her voice. Zelda isn’t in the mood of feeling excited: after only two months from the wedding, her wife has been called to host a very important conference in Europe about an ancient book that has been found in Mesopotamia, written in a lost tongue that only a few people still study, among which, of course, is Lilith. She can't refuse even if she wants to, not that the idea has ever crossed her mind in the first place: Lilith loves her job, not as much as she loves her, but it's close. And Zelda loves her for it._

_Anyway, she can't help feeling sad upon knowing that she will be deprived of her wife in a matter of three days. Far, apart, with the only comfort of some quick Skype calls whenever they can arrange a decent hour for both of them. She will have to do the math and learn the best way to make sure Lilith wakes up with a good morning text from her and a goodnight one every evening. Zelda already knows she will cry herself to sleep every night, all the while hating herself for being so dramatic._

_«Lilith, I’m not in the mood for games.» She complains, tugging on her hand, but to no use. Her wife’s body is pressed on hers as she pushes her around the house from behind and Zelda struggles to walk normally, stumbling on her own feet too often for her taste. «I’d rather spend some quality time with you.»_

_«Be patient.» Lilith whispers into her ear._

_She is about to whine, showing her utter frustration, when a strange noise makes her stop, freezing on the spot. Lilith bumps into her and they both jolts forward._

_«What was that?» She asks, a hint of panic rising in her voice as she realizes it can only be one thing: a small bark._

_«Traitor. I asked you to be quiet.» Lilith mutters under her breath while peeling her hands off Zelda’s eyes._

_The red-haired woman can't suppress a gasp when she sees two big ears popping out from a cardboard box placed on the ground, right on the parlor, and when she steps closer, gazing down at the tricolor corgi pup, Zelda knows she's screwed._

_«Lilith?»_

_«I hate the idea of you sleeping alone when I’m away.» Her wife explains, warm breath tickling her neck as Lilith’s arms wrap around her waist, hugging her from behind. The sadness of her wife’s impending departure is added to the joy of having that new puppy and tears just gather in Zelda’s eyes._

_«Does it have a name?» She asks, but her voice cracks shamelessly, making all her effort to not let her wife know she's on the verge of crying, futile._

_«He.» Lilith corrects sternly, forcing her to turn around in the hug. «And don’t cry, Ginger: I’ll be only away for a couple of weeks.» She reassures._

_«I hate it when you call me that.» The woman replies, bowing her head to avert her eyes, tears falling freely now, succumbing to gravity._

_«I know, I’ll stop if you smile.» Lilith smirks, gently grabbing her chin and making her tilt her head back up. For a moment, Zelda gets lost in the shimmering blue of her eyes, almost glowing at the dim light spreading behind the cloudy sky._

_When their lips collide, Zelda melts into the kiss. Her arm flies to her neck, her fingers dive into the familiar softness of her dark hair, pulling slightly as if she doesn't want to let her go, not even now. It's after a long minute that the puppy, maybe feeling ignored, barks loudly and attempts to jump out of his cage and then whines when he realizes that his short legs won't allow it. They giggles._

_«Don’t cry, Vinegar Tom, it’s alright.» Coos Zelda with a smile, sniffling._

_Lilith scrunches her nose in disappointment when her wife leaves her to pick up the puppy, which immediately gets excited and licks her chin, eliciting another giggle from her. It's at that moment that Lilith’s spirit soothes, knowing she’s done the right thing._

_«I won’t be long, Zelda.» She assures, planting a kiss on her cheek, eager to win the competition with the dog. «I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.»_

_She would say the same sentence every time before leaving as a sort of tradition. Lilith kept her promise, she kept it each time. Each time, except for the last one._

Hilda found her lying on the bathroom floor.

Friends and colleagues were already flocking in the house and she’d left Sabrina and Ambrose at the door, letting people in. Zelda was nowhere to be seen. After a few minutes, she decided to check on her sister upstairs.

It was all quiet - too quiet - except for the water running.

At first, she thought her sugar level had dropped consistently, considering she had nothing to eat since the terrible news, but then she noticed she was conscious, sobbing her eyes out in the black dress, and her heart shattered. Hilda turned the taps off, and sat down beside her, gently grabbing her shoulders and pulling her upright, until her back rested on the side of the bathtub. Zelda was shaking, eyes wide and glassy, her breathing shallow and uneven, her lip trembling as she muttered incoherent words through sobs.

«Zelda, darling, I need you to calm down.» Hilda said with a sweet voice, pushing red strands of hair out of her face. She was having a panic attack and it wasn’t most certainly good for her, not at the moment. «Breathe now, through your nose.» She coached, hoping that in her frenzy state, her sister would actually hear her and follow her instructions. Hilda cupped her face with one hand, gently turning her head to the side so she could face and actually copy her as she mimicked deep intake of air through her nose and long exhales through her mouth. Zelda reached out for her wrist, gripping to her sister so tight her nails dug into her skin as she compelled her lungs a rhythm they didn’t seem willing to follow. Hilda didn’t complain, just focused on studying her face: she saw her struggle, shut her eyes until, eventually, she could regulate her breathing. Zelda wiped some tears from her cheeks, then covered her mouth and she tried to suppress the hiccups. «That’s a good girl.» Hilda whispered, relieved.

«Hildy, she’s gone.» Zelda sobbed, her voice choked and muffled behind her hand. It was the first time she’d said anything about the accident or about Lilith. It was the first time in almost two days she’d said anything at all.

But Hilda couldn’t be happy. Her sister was crumbling down and she had no powers to stop it. «Yes, darling. I know.» She mumbled back, rubbing soothing circles on her back as she resumed her crying. When Zelda fell over to her sister’s chest, searching for a hug, Hilda was more than prompt to give it to her, holding her close to her bosom, trying to make her feel safe, trying to offer a comfort she already knew she couldn’t give. It was two days now, that she’d been trying: Hilda would hold her in bed all night long, just like when they were children, but Zelda kept shivering and crying until a tormented slumber took her adrift in the wee hours. In the day she would be absent, a phantom, refusing water and food, then the night came again, and then the sun was up again, that morning she wore the black dress and went off in the bathroom to put on some makeup. Zelda shouldn’t have worn black now, not in a long time, but especially not now. She didn’t deserve that.

Hilda stood there, just holding her, until Zelda had no more tears nor strength in her to continue crying.

«Darling, if you don’t feel like talking–»

«No.» Zelda detached from her, back straight. Her eyes were rimmed in red, but there was a spark of confidence on her face, that determination that was typical of her sister. Any other person would be at least relieved to see the strong woman suddenly back somehow, probably considering it normal after venting, but not Hilda: her sister knew that was but a mask. «No, she’s my wife–» Her voice quivered. She cleared her throat, « _was_. I’ll do it.» As if she was trying to shove confidence into her, she sniffled and pushed some loose strands of hair back behind her shoulders.

Hilda helped her up as soon as she showed the intention to, releasing her hand only when she deemed her older sister able to stand on her own.

«You really should eat something, Zelda.» She murmured, her eyes scanning the woman’s body. Saying she was worried was an understatement. «She wouldn’t be happy with your fasting.» Hilda wondered if it had been insensible saying that so soon, but, seriously, what else could she do? She was honestly worried sick and if she had to play dirty for her sister’s sake, then she would. Zelda could hate her for a while, she could get mad at her for as long as she wished for; Hilda would happily become her punchball if that could be of any use.

Zelda took a sharp intake of air.

«I know.» She breathed out with a shaky voice, then smoothed her dress, clutching the necklace to her stomach to stop its swaying. Despite probably being a meaningless gesture, Hilda sighed anyway. It wasn’t fair. «Later. What time is it?»

Hilda looked right into her eyes, trying her best not to cry herself in front of her, not even feeling entitled to mourn when her sister had lost so much.

«It’s time.» She simply replied, already knowing what information Zelda was looking for: all their friends were downstairs, in one of the living rooms, all dressed in black, just waiting to pay their respects. The ceremony, however, couldn’t start without her.

Zelda nodded sharply. «Let’s get this over with.»

The empty casket was the insult to the injury. When the plane crashed, two evenings prior, it had left no survivors. Then the fire that started due to the fuel leakages and the damaged electrical cables did the rest, burning up the corpses, triggering minor blowings that pulverized bones and everything that could’ve been left behind. Of Lilith, they could only recover a disturbing fetish doll that Hilda had promptly locked away in the attic. Zelda found herself unable to bear anything that was related to Lilith which, living in the manor that had been their home for over more than six years, was quite a difficult challenge. So, even now, she would walk with her head low, expertly avoiding getting too close to a wall or a piece of furniture that hosted some picture of them or one of Lilith’s souvenirs, and just ahead toward the designated living room, suddenly grateful that everyone was already seated and waiting so she wouldn’t have to deal with their condolences just yet.

She barely acknowledged the music, or Hilda’s speech for the matter, her brain shutting itself off as a sort of defense mechanism. Would Lilith even like those flowers? Why did they even bother when the idiot couldn’t tell the difference between a rose and a gardenia? Zelda bit down her lip, wondering how it would look like if someone saw her giggle between sobs at her wife’s funeral, but then again, the answer was simple: they would probably pity her, whispering among themselves that she had lost her head in grief. Zelda wished she had lost her head, perhaps it wouldn’t have hurt so bad.

«Zelda?»

The woman lifted her gaze when her sister called, probably not for the first time. She swallowed, feeling guilty at the idea of not having actually heard anything she said. Zelda suddenly felt the urge to hug her sister, she was unquiet upon seeing her makeup ruined as tears streamed down her cheeks, then she remembered that she would be even in a more miserable state herself in a matter of minutes. And then again, Hilda still had the privilege of running into the hold of her fiancè, whenever she wanted to. They were lucky. Just like Hilda had done for so long, she would have to experience love through them, with the only difference of not dreaming about a future relationship, but remembering a perfect one that was lost forever.

«Yes.» She mumbled, swaying on her heels as soon as she got up. At this point, she didn’t even know if that was because she was too sad or too weak.

Zelda walked to the wooden lectern and gripped the edges to steady herself. She didn’t have a card. She didn’t need to have one. Zelda swallowed, struggling to focus on the moment as she desperately longed for burying herself into memories. Or, was it even possible to make time go back? Back to when she was still unaware, waiting for her wife to come home? Maybe she could just die or get lost in a dream. If she closed her eyes for a moment, even for a moment, she could still feel her hands on her skin, she could taste her on her lips, she could feel the softness of her hair between her fingers, she could hear her voice, feeble at night as she whispered _I love you_ s and sweet nonsense into her ear.

Zelda was suddenly aware she’d been silent for too long. All those people were already pitying her enough without her standing there doing nothing.

«Thank you for being here.» She managed to blurt out, but then she was speechless again. Words flooded into her mind without her being able to grasp any of them and put an order to make them into a sentence. There were so many things to say about Lilith, but so little that she was willing to share, every memory suddenly precious, hers, something to cherish, so much in fact that she got silently angry at all those people invading the privacy of their home, even if it was to pay respects. She cleared her throat and fought back tears to no use, salty drops streamed down her cheeks and fell off her chin before she could catch any of them. «My wife,» She clenched her jaw at pronouncing those two words. Would she ever use them again? «Lilith–» Her head spun suddenly, she gripped the edge of the lectern so hard her knuckles turned white. She hoped no one would notice. Would it be the last time she called her name out loud? No, she would name her again, eventually, of course, when a certain someone would ask about her. She lowered her head to heave a shaky sigh, for her heart knew, at least, Lilith would never be completely gone.

But then reality hit again, the awful awareness that time would eventually heal her wounds, a mere consolation. How much time? Months, years, would a whole life be sufficient? Grief came again in a wave, engulfing her, cutting her breath for a moment, her throat constricting painfully. Sorrow wrapped around her like a cloak. She felt like suffocating. The room was too small, with too many people in it.

She placed her hand to her chest, as if that could lessen the pain she felt there, or at least control the uneven thumping of her heart. She could do it, she had to. Hilda was right when she insisted on organizing the funeral right away: she needed closure. And after the speech she could forget, for a while, it had even happened, and perhaps pretend she was still waiting for Lilith to come home.

Zelda took a small breath and cleared her throat. She reminded herself not to look at the picture on the coffin: Hilda had chosen the one from last summer when they all went to the sea. She was so happy, that day. They all were.

«My wife, Lilith,» Zelda’s words came out strained, her name rolling off her tongue so easy it almost scared her, «she is- _was_ .» She swallowed, squinting her eyes at the error. «She was…» She tried again, but then she messed up: she _looked_. Lilith was there, in the black and white picture as if she was already a ghost paying visit, smiling, to reassure her that everything was fine. Would she only see her smiling in pictures now? Or hear her laugh through blurred videos on her phone? She felt her knees getting weak. Zelda looked over at the crowd, all those expectant eyes staring right at her, all those faces and still none of them was Lilith, the only one she actually would search in a crowd for comfort, drawing courage from her smile, because she would, right now, if she was there, she would smile from her seat, making feel Zelda safe and confident. But Lilith was not there. She would never be there again, in fact. «I’m sorry, I can’t do this.» She stammered, and before she knew it, she was off, head spinning, hands laying blindly on the walls as she rushed out the living room. People lurched from their seats, eager to help, but she was already out before anyone could actually catch her.

Deaf even to Hilda’s callings, she hoisted herself up on the stairs and fled to the safety of her own bedroom. Behind the closed door, she paced up and down and around the bed, eyes shut tight as she tried to fight the urge of throwing up, well knowing that her stomach was empty. She pressed her hand to her hip and dug in, focusing on the dull ache she was causing herself, as she struggled to ground herself to the present. The last thing she needed right now was fainting, hitting her head, causing more problems to her sister.

Zelda swallowed, reminding herself of some breathing techniques as she let herself fall on the bed, hiding her face behind one hand while the other ran soothing circles on her stomach. She’d tried everything to stay strong, but she had to admit she was falling apart. She was falling down a bottomless pit without knowing how to stop. Truth was, she’d been falling all her life, chasing someone she was not, believing the sick ideal of perfection her father had drilled inside her head since she was a girl; Lilith was the one who had stopped her, pulling her out of that nightmare, showing what happiness really was. Showing her what love really was. But now that she was alone again, who would pull her out from that pit?

She angrily yanked her shoes off her feet, heels hitting the floor with bouncing thuds. Zelda would’ve done anything for a cigarette and glass of whiskey, _Hell_ , she would be able to chug an entire bottle right now, drowning all her sorrow as she drank herself into peaceful oblivion; maybe she would hallucinate and Lilith would pay her visit in her delirium. But then again, she couldn’t do that to Hilda, nor Ambrose, nor Sabrina. She couldn't do it to _herself_. She couldn't do it, period.

When she opened her eyes, her glance laid on the bedside table, and immediately the picture of their wedding day cut off her breath; she reached out, toppling the frame over with a shaky hand. She felt guilty, terribly so, but she couldn’t help it.

«Zelds?»

When she heard the faint, but persistent knocking, she already knew it was her sister. Zelda didn’t answer and just sighed when Hilda let herself in.

«Zelds, love–» Hilda started, but realized too soon she didn’t know what to say. Asking whether she was alright was a cruel joke she was not willing to perform.

Zelda breathed hard against her own palm. She couldn’t bear to look at her sister’s face: she was certainly crying and the vision would surely trigger more tears from herself as well. Also, she could be angry because of how badly she’d just behaved in front of everybody - no, not angry, just even sadder than before. She couldn’t bear even the thought of her sister feeling sorry for her, to be honest. She couldn’t bear anything right now, she just wished she could stop feeling, or thinking, or remembering… just stop existing.

«Hilda, please apologize on my behalf.» She said tiredly, words muffled from behind her hands. She felt the mattress shifting to the adding weight of her sister when she sat beside her, one arm going to rest behind her back to support them both. 

«I don’t need to, Zelds,» she hushed, «they understand.»

They remained silent for a while, Zelda taking comfort when she learned that Sabrina and Ambrose were taking care of the guests and leading them out. A proper vigil with chattering and food was not contemplated, she would happily be considered rude rather than submit to that torture.

Lilith was not old, she was not ill, and she was taken away too soon, too suddenly. At times, she couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of her being dead, gone forever. It was just a cruel joke. The wound was too fresh for her to be able to talk about her departed wife with friends and colleagues, listen to their kind words as they pay respect to her, probably reminding her things about her wife she didn’t want to remember just yet.

When she opened her eyes, the greatest feeling of hollowness in her chest, she leaned in instinctively, and for a moment, her exhausted brain shapeshifted Hilda into Lilith. Of course, who else would’ve comforted her in a similar moment of distress? Who would kiss her better, and protect her, if not Lilith?

Zelda sobbed when she breathed in the faint jasmine scent of Hilda’s perfume, brutally rousing her from that illusion, and lolled her head back, pinching her runny nose when she realized she was soaking her sister’s shoulder with her tears.

«Hilda, I don’t think–» She said between strained hiccups. «I honestly don’t think I can survive this.» Her father’s death had almost been a relief for all the siblings, those strict rules and old ways finally out of their lives as they fought for independence and freedom, and when Edward and his wife Diana had died in their primes, she felt torn apart, being her brother the only one she looked up to, the only one who could understand her suddenly gone, leaving her alone to take care of Hilda, who was young at the time, but not covered in responsibilities like Zelda, who was young herself anyway. Yet nothing could ever compete with this. Losing Lilith had left her without a purpose: utterly alone since no one really needed her - Hilda had Dr. Cee, Ambrose his studies, Sabrina closest to college - and the only one who really could need her wasn’t even really there.

«Darling, you will.» Hilda spoke gently, her hand rubbing her back. «One day at the time. We’ll do it together, alright?» She said encouragingly. Zelda remembered those words, the same she’d used to say to Hilda right after their brother died and she had been utterly inconsolable for weeks to end. Zelda was the elder sister, she was the one who was supposed to console her, not the other way around. Was she failing Hilda?

«I’m losing myself?» The older woman mumbled, frowning when the sentence came out more like a question. It wasn’t, she knew she was losing herself because she actually _wanted_ to lose herself. Could she? Every second she lived with the knowledge of her death was unbearable, every breath marking the passing of time was painful.

Hilda cupped her damp cheek, wiping away the trails of her tears with the back of her fingers. She sighed, and looked into those familiar eyes, biting the inside of her lip when she noticed it was like looking into the eyes of a stranger: a similar green, nothing but an echo of the shimmer she used to muse at only a couple of days ago.

«Zelda, I need you.» She whispered. A plea, with just the right words she knew her sister ought to hear. «Not to mention those two lambs downstairs who are desperately trying their best to help.» Zelda sighed. She knew they were and her heart broke even for them because they wouldn’t have to experience the loss of another parental figure so young. «You owe it to Lilith and to the family you still have.» Zelda nodded slowly, closing her eyes. Hilda was right, of course, but she was fuming because it wasn’t fair for any of them. Was she hating Lilith for leaving them so soon? Maybe. But not entirely. Because - who was she kidding - Zelda loved her. She’d loved her since the first day and she would love her until the last one. She absentmindedly crumpled the front of the dress in her fist and heaved a breath: after all, Lilith was close, she could feel it and, in a way, she would always be close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vinegar Tom here is a corgi because why not. Her's a pic reference: https://img.alicdn.com/imgextra/i4/TB16yN6PFXXXXXZaXXXXXXXXXXX_!!0-item_pic.jpg


	3. Unquiet grave I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡

AN: Flashbacks in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 3 - Unquiet grave I**

_ Zelda is pacing restlessly around the parlor. Drawing from her cigarette as if it's her only reason in life, she keeps scrolling through her messages and phone records hoping that, somehow, Lilith’s picture magically pops up into an incoming call. She’s already tried her office twice, she’s called at the university where she often gives consults to some of the history professors or researchers, and after a couple of hours, she’s even called at the hospital, triggered and utterly alarmed by the sirens that are still wailing in the distance. Something definitely happened, Lilith is nowhere to be found, but she still hopes she isn’t involved.  _

_ Sabrina is checking on her socials - somehow always more promptly updated than anything else - Ambrose is listening to the radio and Hilda is sitting in front of the tv, switching channels, but no one of them can come up with something important to share: no major event in Greendale, no turmoil or murder in Riverdale. And Lilith just… disappeared. _

_ When Hilda reminds her of her pressure and that she is at her third cigarette in a matter of forty minutes, she just waves her away dismissively, focusing her attention on the phone screen when it suddenly takes life, an unknown number written on the black background. Zelda frowns, feeling panic rising at the thought of her being actually in the hospital, and goes to swipe with shaky hands. _

_ «Hello?» She tries, a hand immediately flying to her chest to stop the quivering of her voice. _

_ «Zelda?» _

_ The woman switches from worried to furious in a record time: it’s Lilith calling and judging by her voice, she’s fine and feeling guilty for something. That repenting tone is used only when she is about to ask something, implicitly pleading her not to get mad. It’s too late for that, for Zelda is already mad indeed.  _ Oh, for fuck’s sake _ … what has she done now? _

_ «Where  are  you?» She almost barks those words, jaw clenched. _

_ «Don’t yell, I have the nasties headache.» Lilith murmurs from the other side of the phone. «Everything’s good, I’m sorry I kept you waiting, there were… complications.» _

_ Zelda takes a sharp intake of air as she keeps repeating herself to just stay calm. _

_ «What are you talking about? Where are you calling from and why are you whispering?» She inquires, her voice still loud. _

_ «I’m-» Lilith stammers. Zelda hears her breathing into the phone. «I’m calling from the police station, you’re my one call.» _

_ «You’re  what ?» Before she can even think about regulating the volume of her voice, she is shouting again. _

_ «I beg of you, don’t yell.» Lilith pleads with a lamenting voice. «Everything’s fine, I swear.» She reassures, then heaves a small sigh and pauses. «Could you come to collect me, please?» _

_ Zelda can almost see her pouting, widening those blue eyes of hers as if to imitate a puppy; how can she do that and affect her so much even over a phone? The woman sighs frustratedly, drawing a couple of times from her cigarette to calm her wrecked nerves, and exhales a thick cloud of smoke upward which quickly disappears into the late afternoon air. _

_ «I’m on my way.» She snarls, hanging up without saying anything else as soon as she hears some man warning that time is up. _

_ Zelda drives the hearse to the police station feeling a little like Cruella DeVil, or at least, that’s what Sabrina would say to her if she were in the car with her. Speeding up on the straight roads with the windows down, she tries to let off some steam by pressing on the gas pedal. Surely it isn’t the most clever idea crashing somewhere in the woods, so she slows down almost immediately, hitting the steering wheel when she wonders once again what has happened. Surely nothing serious involving a major breaking of the law or else she would be driving to Riverdale, heading to Shankshaw, but either way, whatever Lilith has gotten herself into, she better have a reasonable explanation. _

_ Once she arrives at the station, she rushes in with wide leaps, heels hitting the marble floor louder than the officers’ confused buzzing. Almost everyone turns their heads when she enters, but Zelda ignores them, eyes darting around in search of her girlfriend’s dark mass of hair, which is rather unmistakable. Eventually, one of the youngest agents - he must be around Sabrina’s age - offers to escort her to the sheriff’s office, explaining the situation. Pure anger builds up inside her, and she clenches her jaw instinctively when she sees Lilith chilling on her chair on the other side of the desk, legs outstretched and her ankles crossed. _

_ She storms into the office without hesitation and even before Lilith can have the time to turn and acknowledge her presence, Zelda has already slapped her shoulder. The dark-haired woman winces, gasps silently, and tries her best to defend herself from the continuous attack. _

_ «Stop!» She protests, arms around her head in self-defense. «Stop hitting me!» _

_ «You’re an idiot!» Zelda yells, slapping her arm once again. She isn’t using enough force to actually hurt her, but enough anyway to be annoying. _

_ Lilith growls and stands up in a blink, catching her hands and wrapping her so she can pin her arms down with her own. _

_ «Zelda, you’re making a scene!» Lilith points out, giving her a gentle squeeze. _

_ «Good.» Zelda spats, trying to wiggle out, but eventually giving up when she realizes it’s no use. It takes her a few minutes to calm down, at least on the outside. _

_ As the officer explains the situation to her, a part of her brain is struggling to command her body to stay put and avoid bashing Lilith for real, this time. When they finally deem them good to go with, luckily, no more than a warning, Zelda walks away from the office, Lilith in tow as she speeds up to catch up with her. _

_ Lilith knows very well she is mad, but a part of her just can’t bear the idea of having disappointed her, so she feels the need to make it up right away. _

_ «Keys?» She chirps once they are outside, hand opened with her palm up. _

_ Zelda ignores her. «I’m driving.» _

_ The other woman grimaces. That isn’t a good sign at all. _

_ Meekly, she walks around the car and takes the passenger seat to her right, fastening her own seatbelt and waiting. Zelda does the same, then stands still, eyes fixed on the brick walls of the station right in front of them. Lilith wonders if she shall say something, maybe apologize for one, so, as she torments her own fingers, she takes a small breath, but Zelda is quicker and interrupts her. _

_ «I was worried sick.» The red-haired woman murmurs sincerely, voice flat. _

_ Lilith swallows. She knows that and for the whole time she’s been there, her only thoughts have been for Zelda. But, honestly, she hadn’t had any choice. «I’m sorry.» She mumbles in a small voice, bowing her head in guilt. _

_ Zelda scoffs, a single, disbelieving chuckle before turning to her, brow knitted. _

_ «Oh, really, you’re sorry? Because you don’t look sorry at all.» _

_ Lilith sighs sharply. She is sorry for Zelda and all the concerns she’s caused to her and her family, but sorry for her action? No, her girlfriend is right about that: she isn’t sorry in the least. And she would do the same thing again if necessary. _

_ «Do you realize that they wanted to destroy the altar in the forest? That pile of rocks, as somebody calls it, could seriously be the spot where the Archangel Lucifer fell, it has a great historical and religious value!» Lilith replies passionately, folding her arms and frowning deeply. Why would nobody listen to her? _

_ Zelda angrily rolls her eyes. _

_ «And your clever response was to chain yourself to it with a bunch of other lunatics.» She spats, cocking an eyebrow allusively. _

_ Lilith sighs frustratedly and sinks in her seat as much as the room leg allows her. «I’ve been studying it for decades now, my degree thesis was about that altar.» _

_ «Lilith, you got arrested.» The other woman points out, stressing each word to emphasize the gravity of it all. She can see how fond of those rocks she is, but that is just too much to handle: what if things got serious? What if someone got injured? What if  _ she  _ got injured? _

_ «Not exactly, just seized and handcuffed.» She murmurs with a small grimace, and Zelda’s eyes widen at that. «Only for the ride to the station.» She adds as if that information could do any good. The red-haired woman sighs behind her hand and shakes her head slowly. «It was worth it, at least the altar is safe. Everything’s fine.» _

_ «Is it?» Zelda barks, gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turn white. _

_ Lilith watches her frowning and biting the inside of her cheek as she squirms in her seat. She’s conflicted: she is actually proud of her actions and the results, but surely getting Zelda so crossed hadn’t been in her plans. But then again, she has to be honest with herself and admit that seeing her so passionate, hitting and yelling at her in front of those people has warmed her heart and made her core throb with lust just a bit. Deep down, she knows, Zelda has already forgiven her. She sighs and leans over to her seat, grinning shamelessly when the woman’s hand lands square on her chest, keeping Lilith at distance. _

_ «Are you going to sulk all night?» She whines, half frustrated, half amused. _

_ «Not at all.» Zelda spats, pushing her away. Then scoffs and starts the car. «For the record, you’re sleeping on the couch.» _

She was staring at the tv screen in the library with glassy eyes, the tilted images, as she laid flat on the sofa, gliding across the screen eliciting no real interest from her. Beneath the blanket Hilda had settled on top of her a couple of hours ago, she twisted the rings on her finger, pulling and pushing them over the knuckle until her skin burned. Images of the last day flashed before her eyes in rapid succession and she would shut her eyes, drowning in memories and when those too became too hard to handle, she just prayed for an empty mind, just like now, completely detached from the world outside, where she would call Lilith, at times, but just in her head, her lips mouthing the name as a mere reflex, hoping that somehow, she would answer back.

In a way, she’d accepted that Lilith wouldn’t answer her back, but she kept trying, a part of her brain telling that stopping would mean betraying her, marking the beginning of an inevitable path of forgetting. At night, when Hilda slept beside her, she would extricate from her tight, protective embrace and she would wander around the sleeping house alone. The coldness of the walls, the quietness spreading around, the darkness engulfing everything, even her mind: sometimes she wondered whether was pretending to be a ghost or was she indeed one already. But then she would get mad, staring at the mirror in her room with her brow knitted: Lilith promised she’d be around forever, why wouldn’t she just pay her visit? Why wouldn’t her spirit torment her, haunting her around her night as she would haunt and torment her thoughts during the day?

Whenever she would wake up - in the morning when Hilda got up and get dressed for work, or from her desk after she’d collapsed on top of it out of exhaustion - she felt a void digging in her flesh, like a parasite, a worm eating her from the inside out, inconsolable, leaving her there, sobbing with no more tears, asking herself if she would ever have peace again.

Zelda shut her eyes tight, a solitary tear pooling in the inside corner of her eye, then growing in size, heavier and heavier, until it overflowed, crossing the bridge of her nose and dropped on the pillow below her head, splatting in a perfect circle on the fabric.

The images on the screen were blurred now, the metallic voices reduced to a distant buzz of nonsense. Zelda felt like she was losing her head. She wanted to do something to just distract herself, but she didn’t have the strength to bring herself to actually do anything at all. For the most time she would lay around, and she hated her sister and nephews who just let her be, kissing her and pampering her when she only needed a good shake.

When the phone rang, her eyes shot open. The sound almost foreign in her ears, drilling into her brain like the most unpleasant of sounds. But she was quite grateful for it: Hilda was out, Ambrose and Sabrina at school, so it was up to her. In a way, that could’ve been Lilith’s spirit taking the matter into her own hand, giving her a good wake-up call, quite literally too, telling she had to fight and move on, because there was so much life within her, still. 

She swallowed, and stood up, grunting when a sharp needle-like pain settled in her lower back and that quickly dissolved. Perhaps lying there on the couch for hours hadn’t been one of her brightest ideas. Zelda sighed, planting her hand on her back as she padded down the hallway barefoot, her heels forgotten somewhere on the studio carpet. If she had to be honest with herself, she didn’t want to deal with death, but she also had to carry on and, unfortunately, death was part of her daily job. Zelda took a small breath, cleared her throat, and picked up the receiver.

«Spellman Mortuary, how may I assist you?» She said, the words practically rolling out her tongue after all those years of repeating them. To her own surprise, she even managed to sound professional.

«Hello, I’m nurse Prudence Night, calling from Riverdale General Hospital. Am I talking to Mrs. Zelda Spellman?» A young girl spoke, her voice was barely audible over the chaotic buzz coming from the other side of the receiver.

Zelda frowned, the confusion suddenly wiped out completely from her head. Why would someone call her from the Hospital of the neighboring town? Maybe something happened to Ambrose or Sabrina? Was Hilda at work, right? Did she hurt herself with one of those overloaded shelves? After everything she’d been through the last few days, she really didn’t need any more bad news. Zelda felt panic rising inside her chest and frightful tears already tickling her eyes.

«Yes.» She only managed to croak out.

«Your wife was on the plane that crashed, right?»

Zelda closed her eyes and took a sharp intake of air. Despite her whispering, the submissive tone of her voice, almost as if she felt genuinely sorry for her, that girl was nothing but another nosey. Another wannabe bloggers perhaps, seeking for her tearful story to charm her readers.

Zelda clenched her jaw. She would’ve been happy to hang up on her, but after all those calls from less polite pries, some of which had managed to upset even Hilda more than once, she felt the young nurse was entitled to a civil refusal.

«Miss Night,» Zelda sighed tiredly, «I have nothing to say on the matter. I buried my wife’s empty coffin two days ago–»

«Mrs. Spellman,» the nurse interjected, «I’m really sorry, but you want to hear this.»

Silence.

Zelda blinked in confusion. There was still hesitation in the girl’s voice, but her determination told the woman there was more. She needed to hear.

«What is it?» She asked in a small voice, urging the nurse to continue.

«You see, this morning, I was reading an article related to the crash in the newspaper where there was a picture of your wife along with the other victims,» she started to tell, hastily, «and then a while ago they brought in this woman and I– I...» The nurse stammered, clearly confused and perturbed, now, «I couldn’t believe my eyes!» The other cried out, swallowing loudly, breathing hard into the receiver.

Zelda felt her stomach constrict. She leaned on the wall to support herself, begging for that young lady wouldn’t betray her. Could it really be…? Was she dreaming? Had she finally lost her mind?

«Tell me!» The woman begged, voice high-pitched.

Silence again, then a small sigh.

«Mrs. Spellman, I think that woman it’s your wife.»


	4. Unquiet grave II

**Chapter 4 - Unquiet grave II**

Before calling the taxi to Riverdale - she didn’t trust herself to drive just yet - she texted Hilda with a confusing message about the recent events, and left a note in the kitchen for Ambrose and Sabrina, instructing them to wait patiently for their auntie Hilda at home, that everything was fine and that she would tell them all about once she’d got to the bottom of the this.

Tormenting her hands, gaze lost somewhere outside the window as Riverdale approached, Zelda struggled to keep her thoughts straight. Could it be true? Blessed that nurse who read the newspaper behind her desk, if Lilith was indeed alive. Sure, Zelda reminded herself that the mysterious woman could be someone different than her wife, but then again, Lilith’s face was hard to mistake. Also, she could feel something in her bones, a tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach that it was her. After all, Lilith had promised to stick around for a very long time.

And if all that was true, then there was another thing that haunted her: why didn’t she call? Was she alright? Or maybe she was unconscious or in a coma or between life and death? Why would they wait days to bring her to the hospital and why wasn’t she identified sooner and by one of the rescuers or firefighters or even the police? Zelda was scared and furious. They told her that her wife was dead, she’d mourned an empty casket at her funeral and suffered for days. She wasn’t still fully able to function without Hilda or one of her nephews constantly buzzing around her. She was devastated and now… they were giving her hope again. What if she had to face another, ultimate disappointment? It was a possibility, one that she kept in the back of her mind because, frankly, she didn’t think she could survive it.

«Ma’am?»

Zelda startled. Blinking in confusion, she realized she was there, right outside Riverdale General Hospital. She paid for the taxi and looked at the white building, painful memories flooding in her head, cutting off her breath.  _ Not now _ . She had dealt with loss enough in the past few days.

She looked around, trying to make eye contact with everyone wearing a white gown or a uniform, for she was supposed to meet that blessed nurse right outside the Hospital. When a young woman approached, dark skin and unnatural white, short hair, Zelda managed to smile at her.

«Miss Night?»

«Mrs. Spellman.» The nurse greeted, giving her a polite smile back. «I would hate you to give you false hopes, but I’m sure I’m not wrong.» She assured, gesturing the door. «Please, follow me inside.»

Zelda obeyed, her heart thumping improbably loud in her chest and in her temples. She tried to take long, deep breaths as she reminded herself she also would have to prevent her pressure from spiking up. The nurse escorted her inside, leading Zelda through a maze of corridors she was sure she wasn’t supposed to walk. Her head was pounding with questions, wishes, hopes… she needed to talk, she needed to know, anything to make that agonizing silence disappear.

«Miss Night, how can she be alive?»

The young nurse shook her head. «My guess? She must’ve gotten out of the plane right after the crash.» She shrugged as she kept walking. «She must’ve hit her head pretty hard, probably had a concussion, and wandered in the forest alone until that man found her.»

All those information started to swirl around in her head and Zelda struggled to comprehend any of those things. It made sense, in a way, it could be possible for as absurd and incredibly lucky, but still, there were missing pieces before being able to complete the puzzle and see clearly what was the entire deal.

«What man?» Zelda frowned.

«A certain Adam Master who was mushrooming in the woods. He found her and helped her.»

Well, that didn’t make sense: he’d found a wounded woman in the woods after a plane crashed and didn’t think about calling the police, or an ambulance?

«Why didn’t he take her to the hospital sooner?»

«He said he had no cellphone and the woman collapsed in front of his tent. He deemed it dangerous to move her around and it was clever of him, but also he could not leave her alone, unconscious, so he waited for her to wake up and only now he managed to bring her here.» The nurse sighed and kept the door open for her as they slipped into the last corridor, a series of doors in line on their right. «It was unfortunate, yes, but that man possibly saved her life.»

Zelda didn’t comment on that, she hated to think that, for all that time her wife had been alive and some other person had provided and cared for her. She followed the girl, absent, until she stopped in front of a room, the glass window allowing to peek inside: there was indeed a woman on the bed, sitting on it giving her back to the door and the sight of those wild, dark hair made her heart skip a beat.

She took a small breath and gripped the handle, but before she could knock on the door with her free hand, the nurse’s hand grabbed her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. Zelda froze.

«Mrs. Spellman, wait.» The nurse warned. «There’s something you should know about that woman: she’s very confused.»

Zelda frowned.

«What do you mean _confused_? »

The girl sighed deeply.

«Well, she doesn’t exactly remember who she is.»

Carefully, she opened the door, nurse Night in tow. She barely acknowledged the doctor visiting the not-so-mysterious woman, her eyes fixed on her, that hair, that color, that curve of her exposed neck and shoulders under the medical gown.

Slowly but steadily, Zelda walked in, ignoring when the man tried to make eye-contact with her - the nurse behind her assured it was alright, that she was the Mrs. Spellman she talked him about -, and carefully rounded the bed. Her heart skipped a beat - she would argue that it actually _stopped_ beating for a moment - when she could finally see the woman’s profile, the soft arch of her nose, the sharpness of her cheekbones and the firm jaw and then her eyes, ice-blue and shimmering at the artificial light, the thin lips parted as she breathed.

It was Lilith. It was indeed Lilith, it was her wife, and she was alive.  
After three weeks apart, after a funeral where she thought her wife was dead and that she was alone and after Zelda hated her for abandoning her, Lilith was alive.

If it weren’t for the nurse who promptly caught her by her shoulders, Zelda would have collapsed to the ground right there and then.

«How is she?» The nurse asked as Zelda tried to regain some composure.

«There’s been an improvement: she started to talk again.»

«Good.»

Zelda stumbled to the bed, leaning down a bit so she could watch her wife and engage her attention. «Lilith?» She called, heart leaping when she realized she could say that name again and that someone would actually reply. «Lilith, it’s me.»

The dark-haired woman tilted her head up to stare at Zelda. Her heart sunk when she didn’t recognize those eyes: it was as if Lilith was just gazing at a stranger, looking right past over her.

«I’m–» The woman stammered, brow knitted. «My name is Mary Wardwell?» She mumbled in a small voice, utterly unconvinced.

Zelda let out a wet gasp. Before she could realize what she was doing, her hand had hovered up, ready to cup Lilith’s cheek, but she flinched away. The red-head bit hard on her inner cheek and shook her head.

«No, dearest, that was your guardian’s name.» She explained in the softest voice she could manage, painful sobs threatening to escape from her throat. «The one who used to take care of you when you were little, after your parents died, remember?» She asked, sighing loudly when Lilith just kept staring dumbly at her, clearly not remembering any of that information. She just needed something that… _clicked_. «Your name is Lilith, we’ve been married for six years now, and-» her breath caught, and she let out a strange sob, hand clutching the front of her blouse, «and we’re expec–»

«Mrs. Spellman, I don’t think this is a good idea.» The doctor interrupted, walking in front of her and gently but firmly forced her to back away. «She’s in shock.»

Zelda swallowed as she backed away, hand flying to her mouth as she restrained her ragged breath at the sound of Lilith gasping and sobbing in confusion.

«Yes, I can see that!» She spat, clenching her jaw. «She needs her family!» She sighed frustratedly, fisting angrily the fabric to her stomach as she tried to regulate her own breathing.

The doctor nodded in sympathy but led her out of the room anyway.

«I know it’s hard to hear, Mrs. Spellman, but that woman doesn’t even know she has a family. I’m glad that thanks to Prudence here, you found your wife and that our Jane Doe has an identity, but as a psychiatrist and a neurologist I would suggest giving her time to recover.»

Zelda’s knees felt weak, her whole world was spiraling down another abyss and she was, again, powerless.  
«What am I supposed to do?»

«Indulge her, for now, and don’t push her.» The doctor insisted. «She mentioned a cottage in the woods, at Greendale, was it? The best thing we can do is play along and let her recover her memories by herself.»

_ Play along _ . Play along, as things were, meant let her go. Her wife was in that room with no memory of her family and she was supposed to let her go back to her old house, alone, pretending not to know her. And what if those fake memories her traumatized brain had created for her would take over and erase the truth? Was Zelda supposed to stay back and do nothing? What if Lilith didn’t remember, in the end?

It was like losing her all over again.

* * *

If you ended up like this -> 👀 IS SHE REALLY⁉️ The answer is YES. Check out this [**post**](https://mementomori-demimonde.tumblr.com/post/634308062420893696/zelda-is-pregnant-in-my-im-not-saying-goodbye) for the exhibits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, after the basically four-chapters-long prologue, let the real story begins...  
> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	5. Basic DID

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'm a damsel, I'm in distress, I can(not) handle this."

AN: Flashbacks in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 5 - Basic DID**

_Locking the door of her cottage behind her back, Lilith gets ready to take her usual evening stroll before dinner. She’s always loved those woods and after a stressful day at work, bouncing from her office to university and back again as she keeps researching and studying, her evening stroll is the only thing that can actually relax her.  
She zips up her favorite leather jacket and decides to take the usual path: she breathes in the smell of the wet ground, then of the muss, she hums at the soft chirping of the birds and listens to the soothing swaying of the trees. When she reaches the small bridge crossing the stream of water, one of her most favorite spots, she leans over the squeaky fence made of old wood and, as always, begs it not to crumble just yet and sustain her weight. Kicking a small stone into the waters, she observes how it affects the placid stream, how the echo of its fall ripples the surface and she smiles to herself when she notices that she has actually changed the course, even if by the smallest inches. She closes her eyes, basking at the moment, then takes a long breath, and just when she decides to head back home, the peaceful stillness is ruined by some foreign noises. _

_Lilith frowns, immediately realizing it can’t be animals fighting or chasing their prey. Those are indeed human voices, some angry and annoyed ones too._

_Actually, someone is positively struggling. A girl, struggling in the woods. Lilith feels her chest swell with fright and a sudden spike of bravery as she rushes, following the source of those noises._

_«Come on, don’t be a tease!» Someone says, but the voice was still distant, carried to her ears by the forest._

_«Stop it!» The girl almost shouts. «I’ve had enough of this!»_

_Lilith commands her legs to go faster, take wider leaps. Suddenly, she sees something different than rocks and tree trunks and stops for a moment to catch her breath as she studies the situation: oh, doesn’t she know about those perverts who just pretend to be kidnapped to have fun in the woods and yell at every intruder._

_She leans on a tree and spies. That doesn’t look like a game, not an enjoyable one at least, and not for the young woman, who is visibly limping, trying to get free from a man holding her with his arm around her waist._

_Lilith panics. She looks frantically around until she notices a small rock by her foot; not too small but not too big either. Glancing between the rock and the attacker, her brain calculating the distance, she sways her right leg and kicks the stone with the side of her foot, angling her hip in a way she just knows will make the rock hit the target._

_When the stone actually hit the man on his back, startling him and cutting off his breath, she almost exults: she has finally put all those years in the university football women team to good use._

_The man looks around frantically, letting go of the young woman who just falls forward in a foam of dead leaves. When Lilith and the man’s glances interlock, the dark-haired woman tries to stand tall, clenching her jaw and plants her foot in the ground; her heart is thumping, but her face is a perfect mask of fake bravado. «Get lost, wanker.» She orders, her voice loud and unwavering._

_The man stares for a moment, glares, shakes his head looking down at the young woman who is on all fours on the ground, and then, finally, he runs away._

_Lilith lets go of the breath she was holding, all her bravery draining from her body, leaving her weak and confused. But then again, her job isn’t yet done._

_Sighing, daring to feel proud of herself for her action, she jogs to the young woman to assure she’s actually fine. As she gets closer, she commands her brain to just stay focus and not wander around to gaze on that particular color of her hair - copper-like, almost - or the green of her eyes, how it shimmers at the dim light of the forest, or the pale white of her skin, or even her clothes, how her dress wraps her slender body, and her heels. Damnnit, of course, she got carried away._

_«Hey, are you alright?» She asks when she gets close enough._

_The young woman rolls off her knees, sits on the ground, and props herself against a tree._

_«Yeah, thank you.» She pants, wiping her hands with a disgusted grimace when she realizes the mud won’t go away so easily._

_Lilith tries her best not to giggle at that face and focuses on the scene she’s just witnessed, feeling rage building up rapidly within her._

_«Do you know that guy?» She asks with a raised eyebrow, inspecting the situation. Should she just let the girl take some air and recover or should she throw herself over and fuss over her right away?_

_«Yes, he was a friend of my father, he asked me out for a stroll and I was naïve enough to accept.» The young woman growls and sighs, scrunching her nose in discomfort. «I guess I did give the wrong impression.»_

_Lilith shakes her head and scoffs. How can she think that? Whatever happened isn’t certainly her fault, not in the least._

_«Men.» She comments through a snarl with an irked voice. «Can you stand up?»_

_The young woman looks up at her and gazes into her eyes for a moment. It triggers something within Lilith, something she doesn’t quite understand, but commands herself nonetheless to behave and just control herself._

_«I think I’ve sprained my ankle.» She says sheepishly._

_Lilith’s eyes roam on her for a while, then she scoffs, letting a single, ironic chuckle out of her lips._

_«No shit.» She spats. «Who goes in the woods in heels?»_

_The young woman glares at her._

_«I wasn’t exactly planning to be dragged into the woods, you know.» She barks._

_Lilith purses her lips._

_«Fair enough.» She concludes, leaning down toward her and hooking her left arm under her knees without warning. Before the young woman can even process what is happening, Lilith has already lifted her a few inches from the ground effortlessly…_ effortlessly _, for the first few instants._

_«What are you doing?» The young woman protests and immediately starts to squirm. «Put me down!» She shouts, kicking her legs._

_Lilith grips her tighter, fearing she could drop her any moment now and glares at her, their faces inevitably close to one another._

_«Stop yelling, I’m rescuing you!» She tries to explain, jerking her head back to avoid being hit._

_The other plants her smaller hands squared on her chest and pushes her away._

_«I don’t need to be rescued!» She rebukes fiercely and continues to squirm, kick and push, leaving Lilith no other choice than to put her down to avoid hurting either one of them._

_«Fine!» Lilith spats, folding her arms on her chest, but a smirk creeps on her mouth: what a feisty little thing. «Enjoy.» She challenges soon after, without backing away. She watches the young woman struggle, already knowing she’s hopeless: for as much as she tries to pull herself up, the sore foot won’t allow her to put any weight on it, while the other, still wearing the stiletto, will sink inevitably in the mud. After various attempts, Lilith hears her sigh loudly and gazes down at her with a satisfied smirk when the young woman looks up at her._

_«Alright, help me?» She should be pleading for her help, but the tone of her voice makes it sound like a command. There is still pride burning on her face, and Lilith narrows her eyes: that woman is intriguing and amusing, in a way._

_She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and grins._

_«Say 'please', Ginger.» She teases with a mockery tone._

_The young woman’s jaw hangs for a moment, outraged. She pauses and glares._

_«Please?» She manages to say through clenched teeth, and even if it sounds like a bark, Lilith decides it’s enough. She sighs dramatically and leans down once more._

_«Fine, I think I’ll help you.» She almost sings those words, hooking her arm again under her knees, the other cradling her back. When Lilith pulls her up and straightens her back, she’s glad that this time the young woman’s arms are linked around her neck, further easing the effort to carry her. Bouncing her a little to secure her hold as she starts to walk, Lilith swallows, only now realizing how close their faces actually are. «My- my cottage is right outside the wood, we’ll get you cleaned up and then call a taxi to get you home.» She sets out, rationally planning everything and mentally slapping herself for stammering. Really, can she stay focused for a moment, even with a pretty girl in her arms, clinging to her neck? She can be ridiculous, sometimes. The woman clears her throat and forces herself to look straight ahead. «Name’s Lilith, by the way.»_

_The other narrows her eyes, glaring at her one last time before slowly accepting and yielding to her current condition._

_«Zelda Spellman.» She scowls. «Don’t call me Ginger.»_

  
  


The hardest four weeks of her life started the day they told her Lilith was still alive.

Her wife had to leave alone because according to all the doctors available for a consultation, letting her be was the best thing she could do.

Too tired and emotionally wrecked to argue further, Zelda had climbed on a taxi and fell asleep on the way back home. There, she’d told her family everything and while they celebrated, their hearts grew heavier with a new kind of sorrow.

In the first few days, Zelda would venture in the woods in the hope to catch a glimpse of her, not bothering to look like a creep or a stalker, but her wife just stayed indoor, doing who-knew-what in her cottage, and they few times she actually saw her, she would just go out only to buy some groceries.

Soon, her spying session became too painful: she could see Lilith but she wasn’t able to touch her, nor talk to her, and when Zelda came back home she was so exhausted, both mentally and physically, that her sister and nephews had to remind her one of the most horrible moments of her life to convince her to rest more and be patient, just like the specialists had suggested. Of course, Zelda didn’t want to jinx, nor jeopardize even the smallest possibility of her remembering, so she yielded and stopped visiting; she actually stopped going out for good in the next two weeks, fearing she might’ve run into her accidentally around Greendale. In her head, she kept repeating that she had to allow Lilith to take her own time, because, eventually, she would come back to her; like a mantra, she mouthed the words, every morning when she woke up and every night before snuggling into Hilda’s reassuring embrace.

Zelda’s only comfort would be knowing her wife was alive and safe.  
Maybe she simply had to convince herself that, just like any other time, she was just waiting for Lilith to come back to her; she’d done that dozens of times, she would do the same once more.

Perched on the stool of Dr. Cerberus diner, next to the counter as Hilda worked her shift, Zelda got lost in her thoughts once again. Absent-mindedly, she tilted her head and buried her nose in the collar of the black jacket she wore; it fell a little too wide on her shoulders and it didn’t match her current outfit quite perfectly, but she didn’t care, because she could definitely smell the familiar scent on the leather and that was just enough for her, one of the simple ways to feel Lilith close even when she was not - the old Baltimore Ravens t-shirt Lilith used to wear as pjs on Zelda’s pillow at night, was another.

«Hilda?» She suddenly asked, snapping out of her daze. She waited for her sister to serve her clients before propping her head on her hand, half-slouching on the counter, and sighed. «Can I have a milkshake, please?» She almost begged, staring at her sister behind partially hooded eyes and just a slight pout, knowing Hilda wouldn’t resist her. Years ago when she accepted the job, Zelda had scoffed, but now she had to admit that having free access to whatever was available in the fridge of the finest diner in town was literally a blessing.

Her sister tried to resist her for a while, only to give up five seconds later.

«Fine.» She agreed, already grabbing the tall glass and a straw. «But don’t overdo on the sugar like you did yesterday or you’ll get that nasty tummy ache again.» She warned.

Zelda rolled her eyes but reassured her sister, nodding.

«Promise.»

«The usual, I suppose? Dark chocolate?»

Zelda stood still for a moment, then scrunched her nose.

«Strawberry.»

Hilda frowned.  
«You hate strawberry milkshake.»

«Not anymore, apparently.» The other rebuked with a sigh, rubbing soothing circles on her rumbling stomach. «Besides, it’s Lilith’s favorite.» She paused, knitting her eyebrow. «I wonder if it still is.» She mumbled, her voice trailing off.

During the last week, she took the habit of accompanying Hilda to work at nights, first because since Sabrina and Ambrose were out on a trip, visiting all the colleges in the country the girl found most interesting, she didn’t want to stay alone in the house, and secondly because Lilith had always loved that place, always getting lost in those weird books while eating sloppily her cheeseburger, and, deep in her heart, Zelda only prayed for her to enter from that door.

Until, suddenly, one those nights, she did.

Her breath hitched when she saw Lilith walking outside the window. She was wearing a mustard-colored trench coat and her old glasses, wild hair tied into a low bun on the nape of her neck, the bruises and the wounds completely healed, and she seemed in a hurry. Zelda felt too happy to think any other coherent thoughts and she quickly wiped at her eyes, hating the few tears that were making her sight blurred.  
After all those weeks, she couldn’t afford to lose even a second of her.

Zelda begged for her to slow down. She begged for her to decide to enter the diner, eat something, just so she could watch her from her booth, silently hoping that Hilda or one of Hilda’s meals would trigger something, anything, in her mind.

Answering her prayers and making her heart leap, Lilith eventually stopped and pushed the door to enter. But then there was something that caught Zelda’s eye: she wasn’t alone. Lilith was closely followed by a man.

Zelda frowned deeply, her lips parting in a silent growl when she noticed the discomfort on her face. It was as if Lilith had entered the diner to seek a sort of refuge as if she was trying to run away from him.

The man trailed after her, and when he got close enough, he tapped on her arm, rather impolitely, forcing her to turn and sigh with her eyes shut.

«I saved your life, lady.» He snarled and despite being at least twenty feet from them, sitting at a booth in a very busy and chaotic diner, Zelda could hear him.

Lilith glared at him and backed away.

«And I’m grateful for it, but we said a stroll and a chat, nothing more.»

So that man was the one who saved her? She’d asked the Hospital for a phone number because she wanted to thank him for saving her wife, but when they said he didn’t leave any and he wasn’t on the white pages, nor on any social for the matter, she’d forget about it and let go. Now Zelda was beginning to think he wasn’t worthy of any kindness from her after all.

«Listen, you owe me.» He said, standing the ground.

Zelda was already on her feet when Lilith scrunched her face in a disbelieving frown.

«I owe you nothing. Please leave?»

The man gazed down at her, clenched his jaw, but didn’t show any sign of moving.

Zelda had closed her hand into a fist, though she didn’t plan on actually hitting anyone in this life - anyone but her wife when the situation required it - when she approached them, siding with Lilith without daring to look at her. For as much as she hurt her, Zelda had to play the part of a random person simply willing to help another fellow woman.

«Please, sir, leave.» Zelda echoed, ready to call either Hilda or her boyfriend in order to have a legit authority that could command him to leave the diner, if necessary. Luckily enough, the man just scoffed and left, muttering very unpleasant names for them both on his way out.

Once alone with Lilith, she immediately bowed her head to physically avert her eyes, but unable to actually bring herself to part from her, helplessly craving being close to her.

«Thank you.» She heard her say.

Zelda tilted her head up as if strings were attached to it and Lilith was pulling on those, unknowingly, coaxing her with her voice. In the exact moment when their eyes met, the woman’s heart skipped a beat, a great sadness once again falling on her inevitably.

She managed to nod quickly and gave a smile.

«It’s alright.» She mumbled dismissively.

Then, Lilith frowned as she seemed to study her face. Zelda obviously let her, begging silently for her to remember, to recognize her.

«I’ve seen you before,» Lilith whispered. Zelda’s breath hitched, «you’re the woman from the hospital.»

Zelda stared at her, feeling completely empty, a shell. She swallowed and nodded, unable to produce a complete sentence.

«Yes.» She croaked out.

Those blue eyes that once gazed at her with so much love she felt like she could melt, were now just looking at her, passively, almost absent, as if she was indeed a stranger.

«Mary Warwell.» She breathed out, reaching out with her hand «I have very confused memories lately, I don’t know if we’ve been properly introduced.»

Zelda’s head was spiraling without control. Where was Lilith? She didn’t know Mary Warwell and, quite honestly, she didn’t even want to know her; Zelda wanted her wife back.  
She felt hot tears pricking at her eyes and just stared down at her hand, helplessly. But then that woman smiled at her and her whole face brightened up.

So there was still something of her wife in there.

Zelda had to give her a chance, at least she would look at her face or touch her hand once again.  
And maybe, that woman hiding her Lilith beneath the surface, one day would even smile for her and warm her heart unknowingly.

The redhead swallowed and shook her hand politely, struggling to keep the thumping of her heart at bay.

«Zelda Spellman.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Adam, you were pure and innocent and brought a bit of happiness in Lilith’s life so thank you for that, but I needed a jerk and you were the only male person available.
> 
> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3  
> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	6. Requiem for a dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Flashbacks in italic.

**Chapter 6 - Requiem for a dream**

_ Zelda grunts again, throwing the offending dress on the bed, and almost burying Hilda in the process. Frustrated, the red-haired woman covers her face with her hands and lets out a small scream into them, knowing her palms will soften the sound. Peeling her fingers from her mouth, she then inspects herself in the mirror, tilting her head to the side with an inquisitorial expression. _

_ «What if I call in sick?» She proposes, not entirely convinced herself, as she walks back to the bed to dig into the pile of clothes once again: it’s impossible she  _ really  _ has nothing to wear. _

_ Hilda takes a green blouse from beneath the messy bundle of fabrics and scrunches her nose. _

_ «You’ve got the number?» She asks rhetorically with a grimace. _

_ Zelda sighs, admitting her defeat. She doesn’t have any excuse now, other than her unproven fears; but then again, where is her pride? Does she really think she will allow anybody to think she’s scared? For what? It isn’t the end of the world. She clenches her jaw and marches to her closet again and retrieves a burgundy vintage dress made of lace, with a low-neckline that ended with a purposeless series of buttons. She turns and holds the dress in front of her, the billowy silky skirt brushing just past her knees, and corks her eyebrow allusively. _

_ Hilda opens her mouth into a silent  _ oh _. Then it’s decided: it’s the one. Zelda can anticipate her mouthed comment. _

_ «Saucy!»  _ _ Her sister chuckles. _

_ The other rolls her eyes, but a satisfied smirk creeps on her lips nonetheless. _

_ «Now shoes.» She declares more to herself as she hangs the dress on the vanity chair and lowers herself between her shoe boxes in the back of her closet, searching for the perfect stilettos. Red? Black? She needs to find a decent purse to match the shoes. _

_ «Remind me who is this again?» Hilda asks suddenly, her voice loud and full of genuine curiosity. _

_ Zelda seats back on her heels and smiles to herself: right, her sister’s knowledge about her incoming whereabouts is close to zero. When she announced she had a date that evening, Hilda had been so eager to help that she’d let Zelda shower her with incoherent thoughts and consideration without properly being informed. Did she even tell her it was a woman? Would Hilda freak out at the information? _

_ Zelda turns to her, biting her lip impatiently. _

_ «The name’s Lilith.» She says in a small voice, so softly she questions if her sister has heard her in the first place. _

_ Hilda halts, her face undecryptable. _

_ «Sounds like a female name.» She scoffs tentatively. _

_ «That’s because it is.» Zelda replies, averting her eyes, pretending to search through her boxes. She knows her sister isn’t a judgy person, but her opinion is important and her blessing even vital; what if she doesn’t approve? The idea makes Zelda’s heart skip a beat. Only then she realizes that they have been silent for quite some time, maybe even too much. _

_ When she looks, however, all her fears get washed away: Hilda is beaming at her, an enthusiastic expression that almost changes her features as she squeals. _

_ «I knew it!» She cries out, crumpling her blouse in her hands out of sheer excitement. _

_ «You  _ knew  _ it?» Zelda asks, cocking an eyebrow. How can she have known something she only has recently discovered herself? _

_ «It was quite obvious you never felt comfortable with any of the suitors father tried to fob you.» Hilda scoffs with a small, knowing chuckle. «And all those college sweethearts, Zelds, no offense, but you were never smitten with them. No wonder why they never lasted more than a week.» _

_ Zelda sighs, aware of the crimson blush currently spreading on her neck and down her chest. Her sister is completely right, but up until that day, she’s never dwelled on that thought, convincing herself that she simply hadn’t found the right person yet. Nevertheless, that explains why she’s never  _ really  _ kissed any of those guys, and broken up with them before things got too serious. On one hand, of course, they revealed to be a bunch of common guys, not up to the task of sharing her life with them, but on the other, she had wondered if she had too high expectations. The answer is simpler but only came tonight: she has never been into guys in the first place. _

_ «Do you think I was hiding, Hildy?» She asks her, feeling suddenly guilty toward herself for having lived in denial for so long. _

_ «I think you’re slow when it concerns feelings, Zelds.» The other replies with a fond grin that sounds like half of a scolding. «Anyway, it’s in the past now. Don’t worry about it.» She insists, mirth in her voice. «Now, who is this Lilith?» _

_ Zelda hooks her fingers under the thin bands of the stilettos she’s chosen and walks back to her sister, sitting on the bed beside her with a grin. _

_ «Remember when I was back for spring break in my first year of college?» Hilda frowns and nods. «That charming young woman who rescued me from Faustus.» _

_ The younger woman narrows her eyes as she searches through her memories, then her face brightens up. _

_ «Ohh, that one?» She gasps, releasing the blouse with shimmery eyes. «Gosh, Zelds, I haven’t heard about that story in years!» _

_ Her sister chuckles and lolls her head up and down in agreement. _

_ «Ten years, more or less.» She confirmed, her voice trailing off for a moment. There have been times when she’d thought about that episode in the woods, and she’d tried to remember her face because she just didn’t want to forget her; still, she’d considered it only a fond memory from Greendale, and naively believed nothing could occur from that. Who would’ve told her that, years later, it would happen instead? She shakes briefly her head and resumes her telling. «I didn’t even think she lived here anymore, and yet I bumped into her at the diner with Sabrina. She’s the one who spotted me: she yelled, called me ' Ginger',  and I turned to whoever it was to give the dead eye, but then I recognized her.» _

_ Hilda’s eyes are glued on her sister as she listens to her voice, totally captured. _

_ «That is  so  romantic!» She comments with a shriek. «And then?» _

_ «Then,» Zelda bows her head, trying to hide the flush on her skin with her hair from her sister’s peering eyes; she fails, «Sabrina left with her friends and we stayed at the table, talking.» She sighs, a dreamy smiled undying on her lips. _

_ «Then?» _

_ «She asked me out.» Zelda muttered, blinking. «I panicked and just said  _ yes _ , but–» _

_ «What?» Hilda asks, a concerned gasp bends her mouth. «You don’t like her?» _

_ «No! I mean, yes–» She stammers and shuts her eyes. «I wouldn’t bother so much if I didn’t like her, don’t you think?» She states, glaring at her sister matter-of-factly. _

_ «Well, then, what is the problem?» The younger woman asks dumbly. _

_ Zelda sighs deeply. _

_ «What if she doesn’t like me? What if I make a fool of myself?» She breathes out, naming her real fears. When she opens her eyes, looking at her sister, Hilda can see the genuine tears flooding her eyes. _

_ «Have you seen yourself, Zelds?» Her sister says through a grimace, with the only purpose of making her laugh. When she succeeds, she pulls Zelda into a quick hug. _

_ «Well, I’ve never gone out on a date with a woman before.» The older sister comments, sniffling a little and wiping her eyes with the back of her finger. Then she chuckles. «Imagine father’s face if he knew.» _

_ All the mirth drains from Hilda when she scoffs and rolls her eyes. _

_ «Thank goodness he’s not here anymore, Zelds, for your own sake.» She spits out, in a not-too-subtle allusion to all the times their father had tried to impose his ideas on either one of them. The fact that her elder sister, the one who was supposed to bring honor to the Spellman family, is about to disobey one of his rules, sends a chill of pride and satisfaction down her spine. _

_ When at precisely seven o'clock they hear a rumbling sound coming from outside, they both exchange a glance. Ambrose and Sabrina are both too caught in their online game to mind the noise, screaming and yelling things neither is allowed to say with their headphones on. _

_ «You think…?» Hilda mumbles and her sister shrugs as she catches her purse just in case. Walking on her heels and trailing down her sister, she peeks outside when Hilda opens the door. _

_ Her jaw hangs at the sight of Lilith climbing down the maroon vintage Triumph bike that is now parked in the driveway, right beside the hearse. _

_ «Good evening!» She greets removing her helmet, wild hair cascading on her shoulders freely. _

_ Zelda throws a sheepish glance at Hilda: and now what? Is she supposed to climb on that thing with that dress and in her heels? And wear a helmet as well? What about the hours she’s spent combing her locks in perfect curls? _

_ «Good evening.» She mumbles automatically when she sees Lilith jogging towards her. She’s wearing a very smart suit and a leather jacket that doesn’t quite match, but somehow she manages to own that look. Was that the same jacket she was wearing on their first encounter, the one she put on her shoulders like a blanket when they arrived at her cottage? _

_ «We should be going, I have a reservation.» Lilith announces with a smirk, not even trying to be subtle when her eyes wander on her body. «You look gorgeous.» _

_ Zelda feels blushing at the remark, well knowing that her every attempt will be futile, she doesn’t hide and just smiles back. _

_ «You’re not bad yourself.» _

_ Hilda and Lilith exchange a brief wave. _

_ «Ready?» Zelda shifts her weight from one foot to the other, looking now at the woman, now at the bike, hesitantly. «You’ll be fine.» Lilith assures, almost reading her mind and trying to erase any possible perplexity. _

_ Zelda sighs and, after a pause, she nods. _

_ «See you later, Hilda.» She mumbles, silently begging her to take care of those two rascals inside without spoiling them too much while she’s away.  _

_ She regrets everything when she approaches the bike. Using Lilith’s shoulders as leverage while the woman gently guides her own with a secure arm looping her waist, Zelda climbs on, inching a little the gown up to her thighs so that it doesn’t stand in the way; luckily it isn’t long enough to get caught in the wheels. When Lilith presents her helmet, she almost glares, but before she can protest, the woman has already put it on her head, shaking it up a bit to test if it fits, then proceeds to fasten it under her chin. Zelda swallows when her fingers brush against the skin of her neck and tries desperately not to blush again. _

_ Lilith climbs in front of her and Zelda falls forward as soon as the bike is off the stand, eliciting a slight giggle from the dark-haired woman, who just catches one of her arms and pulls it to her waist, silently suggesting to do the same with the other. _

_ Behind her, Zelda compels, but rolls her eyes, almost sure she’s chosen a bike exactly for that purpose. Not having any other choice than to actually cling to Lilith to avoid falling off, she decides to just enjoy the ride and leans completely onto her back. She’s sure that Lilith is smirking and she can’t do anything about it. _

_ But then again, why should it be a bother for her? After all, she is beaming herself, happiness spreading inside her like the most welcomed of plagues. Sometimes that woman can get on her nerves, but it’s a nice challenge that results in a weird tickle at the pit of her stomach every time Lilith teases her. _

_ «Where are you taking me?» She asks curiously, frowning when she realizes she’s clueless about everything, and even though the bike has been a nice surprise, it was something unexpected indeed. What if she needs to get ready for something? _

_ Lilith, however, just giggles. Zelda sighs: she should’ve known better. _

_ «It’s a surprise, Ginger.» She smirks, fastening her own helmet. _

_ «Don’t call me–» Zelda starts, but the other woman hits the gas in that precise moment and the bike almost rears, knocking the wind out of her. _

_ Hilda waves at them awkwardly from the porch, a tensed smirk on her lips, silently hoping her sister survives the night. _

Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe she was in her bed and that was only an illusion her brain made up. It could've been, because everything is absurd: she couldn’t believe she was actually sitting at a small table diner across her wife, who wasn’t even her wife, but some unknown woman responding to the name of Mary Wardwell; one that was currently using Lilith’s body as a sort of shell hostage. After thinking her dead, mourning her empty casket at her funeral, after all those weeks, she could watch into that blue of her eyes again, that shone so familiar but which didn’t recognize her in return; after all those weeks she could hear her voice again, calling her name again, even if with not the same tone that made her shiver every time; after all those weeks she could see her smile, even if not for her.

After asking why was Zelda at the hospital that day, the red-haired woman took time, bearing in mind she shouldn’t overshare information, and after a few minutes, she convinced Lilith - or to better say, Mary - to join her at her table to just… _talk_ and spend the evening together. Whether as friends, strangers, or simply two people who had just met and didn’t want to be lonely for a few hours, she couldn’t tell, but she didn’t care either.

Zelda was happy, yes, deep down, because now she felt helpless and empty above anything else. Her wife was there, but she was also incredibly out of reach. And it was almost as painful as knowing she was dead, because, either way, Lilith wasn’t with her. Would she ever be again?

She barely acknowledged Hilda when she approached them, silently and discreetly supervising the situation since she too knew she shouldn’t interfere with any of that. Despite being happy for that sight and all the possibilities that brought with it, she couldn’t help but feel concerned about the whole situation: the last thing she needed was Zelda upsetting herself over something that required time. She knew her sister, she wasn’t a patient woman and she would get frustrated and blame herself for not trying enough or for trying too hard.

When the blonde woman smiled warmly at them, she tried her best not to show her teary eyes, focusing on her ministrations: she placed two milkshakes on the table for them. Before she could leave, however, Zelda saw Mary frown in utter confusion and sighed with her eyes closed at her sister’s well-meaning mistake - but a mistake nonetheless. She hoped it wouldn’t be a decisive one, though, since every detail could make the difference.

«How did you know…?» Lilith asked, gesturing the strawberry milkshake in front of her, looking at Hilda.

The woman stared down at her, wide-eyed, and gave her a nervous chuckle.

«Uhm, you’re a regular, dear.» She stammered. « _Were_ -» She corrected and swallowed, tucking the tray under her arm as she shifted impatiently on her spot.

Zelda’s breath hitched. She could sense her wife’s confusion, she could almost feel the slight hint of panic rise within her and it broke her heart. She swallowed through a dry throat and begged that her next gesture wouldn’t turn out to be a pressure of any kind. She reached out and placed her hand on top of hers.

«Don’t worry, we’re all fam- _ friends _ , Mary.» She said with a soft voice, hoping it would bring some comfort to her. It hurt to use that name to call her wife, but if that could reassure the dark-haired woman in front of her, then she would use it, almost like a pet name. She could pretend, and live that little lie for the greater good.

Zelda hinted a smile to her sister, who reluctantly backed away, even if she kept eyeing the situation from behind the counter.

Biting the inside of her cheek, the woman stared at her wife, studying her as her blue eyes observed their hands, one on top of the other, almost transfixed. Could she feel the familiar touch? Could she feel how their skins belonged to one another? Could her body remember what her mind had forgotten?

Her breath hitched when Mary slid her hands from beneath hers, she didn’t yank nor did it in a brutal way, but Zelda felt a tug to her heart nonetheless.

«You said–» Mary winced behind her glasses, then cleared her throat. «When we were at the Hospital, you said some disturbing things?» She looked straight in her eyes, then heaved a chuckle. «I don’t know, I don’t remember much of that either, but I was upset after you left.»

«I know.» Zelda heaved a sigh, retrieving her empty hand to rest it on her lap. «I shouldn’t have.» She stuttered, not entirely sure how to behave. Happiness had taken over her when she asked Mary to join her, but she couldn’t foresee how difficult it would’ve been to actually have a conversation with her. Maybe it had just been a big mistake.

«No, please.» Her wife was pleading. There was a strange shimmer in her eyes, something she’d never seen before: she was scared? Did she feel she was lost, that the new identity of Mary Wardwell wasn’t her own? «I feel like you know me more than myself. There are these… _voids_ that I can’t fill.» She sighed, slumping back in her seat. «I want to remember, really.»

Zelda couldn’t contain the ragged breath that escaped her lips. How easy would it be for her to tell that woman her real name, bring her home, show her the family waiting for her to come back, their pictures together, tell about their wedding, their plans for the future, that were coming true as they spoke... But she couldn’t. She had to stay strong, she had to think what was best for her wife, what was best for her to come back to them.

She averted her eyes, ever-so-slowly shaking her head, her heart getting heavier by the seconds.

«I’m not supposed to–»

« _Please_.» Lilith begged again, leaning forward, almost with abandon, hitting the table with her ribs. «I don’t know where to turn, everything seems foreign to me, except for...» She looked around frantically, brought two fingers to her lips when her glance dropped on Zelda again. «Will you help me?»

There wasn’t anything she wanted more in the world, to help Lilith, to be by her side always, for better and for worse just like she’d promised in front of her family on that wonderful afternoon of late July. She knew she wasn’t supposed to agree to that, but how could she refuse her wife?

Zelda bit her lip, closing her eyes for a moment, begging whatever superior being up there or below for her decision not to be the wrong one.

«If you want me to.» She whispered, swallowing hard. She blinked a few times to push the tears back. «Yes, of course, I’ll help you. But we’ll go slowly.» Zelda felt the need to warn her, because what if she started to ask specific questions? She still had to keep in mind that she needed to be patient, wait for Lilith to take her time. She stared at those blue eyes until the woman in front of her gave her a shy nod. Doctors must’ve said the same things to her.

«Thank you.» Lilith mumbled, pushing her glasses back on her nose.

The red-haired woman inhaled, warding off one of the many memories where her wife would do the same thing whenever she read something, lost between the pages at home.

Lilith gave heaved a tentative sigh, but between her choked breath, there was indeed a smile. Zelda’s heart leaped but she sighed frustratedly. She wanted to obey, but something just felt off: how was she supposed to come back without any hint, or any direction?

She cupped her glass with both of her hands, took a small sip but suddenly stopped when she noticed her stomach was having none of that. She put her milkshake down and just got lost watching Lilith savor her own, her tongue and lips awkwardly following the straw around as it moves in the thick liquid and melting whip cream. It took her everything she had not to smile at the image.

When their gazes met, Zelda noticed the faint blush on the woman’s cheek. Normally, it was very rare to see her blush, so she just basked at the moment, smiling promptly at her, comforting her, reassuring her, letting her know that she was there and she would always be, whether Mary really needed her or not: Zelda would be there for her no matter what. Could she tell her all that by just looking at her? Lilith could, once.

The redhead kept staring, musing on her hands, the same she longed to hold, graceful fingers holding the dewed glass. It was then that Zelda noticed the rings on her left hand and the world stopped for an instant.

She hadn’t realized she was looking at her as if Lilith had suddenly grown two heads until the woman cleared her throat, pulling her out of her daze, staring with an inquiring expression and demanding an explanation.

«You-» Zelda stuttered, tongue moisturizing her dried lips covered in a thin layer of dark nude lipstick. «You didn’t take them off.» She whispered, barely above a breath. The red-haired woman couldn’t tell herself if she was happy or surprised, or even shocked as she pronounced those words. She was entitled to any of those things? Was she expressing one, or all of them at the same time? Had she made a mistake by pointing out the very symbol of their bond? Was it too soon? Her lungs constricted in fear she might’ve just overstepped and ruined everything, but it was too late to go back anyway.

So when Lilith frowned, slightly confused, mutely asking what she was talking about, Zelda tilted her head, gesturing her hand with a single nod of her chin. «The rings. You haven’t removed the rings.» She breathed out. More than once, she thought that Lilith, as Mary Wardwell, could take off some meaningless rings that didn’t belong to her, and the idea killed Zelda every time. She was glad the woman hadn’t done such a thing.

Lilith shifted on her chair as she mused at her own hand. She touched the bands of each ring, slightly detached, and heaved a little sigh.

«When I tried,» the dark-haired woman confessed in a small voice, «I felt like I was naked without them.»

The younger sighed, melancholic.

«It happens to me too.» She bit her tongue, pressing her own lips together as soon as she realized what she’d just done.

Zelda slowly covered her left hand with the other and retrieved it in her lap in a poor attempt to hide her own rigs, which of course, matched the ones Mary had on her own hand. Yet, did she really want to hide the rings in the first place? Or was she just trying to draw her attention to them? Zelda didn’t know. She bowed her head not daring to look when she heard that soft gasp of surprise. Even if her heart was thumping madly within her ribcage, Zelda could feel she had done the right thing: after all, they had to start somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know which video of Michelle climbing on a bike made me weak...
> 
> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3  
> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	7. Only fools

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little shorter, I know, I'll make it up to you with chapter 8.

I wrote the first part thinking about this song: [Can't Help Falling in Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=npwHNcGqueE) (by Haley Reinhart)

AN: Flashbacks in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 7 - Only fools**

_ It’s not the dead of the night yet, but the silence is deafening nonetheless. She’s shaking, toes curling into her shoes, she can ear the thumping of her own heart, almost painfully behind her eardrums. _

_ Lilith rounds the table, eager to put something between them. She exhales loudly, the air vibrating against her sternum as she leans on the flat surface with her hands. Her head lolls forward, chin touching her chest, and her face gets obscured by dark curls. _

_ «Why are you doing this?» _

_ Zelda lets out a frustrated sigh. She has her arms folded on her chest, her right hand raised close to her mouth, the cigarette gracefully balanced between her fingers while she occasionally drags from it. _

_ «I’m not doing anything, you’re not my type, that’s all.» She states, her voice deprived of any hint of emotion. _

_ When Lilith hits the table with both her hands, Zelda startles. _

_ «Do you hear yourself?» The older woman almost growls, lifting her head. Ice-blue eyes lock with green ones, throwing flames. «After eight months you suddenly decide I’m not your type?» She wonders with a disbelieving grimace altering her features. Lilith is shaking with rage, disappointment, and so many other things she can’t even name. _

_ Zelda swallows, shifts from one foot to the other, shrugs a little. _

_ «People are entitled to change their minds.» _

_ At that, Lilith pushes herself off the table, engages a little walk, retraces her steps, raises her hand, palm toward the red-haired woman to stop her talking. _

_ «Spare me.» She spits out, commanding. _

_ Fits on her hips, she resumes her march, glancing at her own feet as she moves around the Spellman kitchen.  
«You’re scared.» She declares, hoping to make Zelda realize her own mistake, hoping those words can make herself realize she’s currently tilting at windmills: stubborn, arrogant, proud as Zelda is, she’ll never admit the dark-haired woman is right and, most of all, that she’s scared. If anything, Lilith has just unleashed her wrath. _

_ «Sca- I’m not scared.» The woman retorts, almost outraged. «I don’t like where this is going: what’s going to happen when you leave? I know your type, always on the go. You’ll break the children’s hearts, they’re getting too fond of you.» _

_ 'The children', yes _._ Lilith scoffs, rubbing her forehead vehemently with her fingers. _

_ «Unbelievable.» She mutters under her breath. She paces around for a few more seconds, then throws her hands in the air into a yielding position. «You know what? You want to run, Zelda? Fine. Do it, run away.» Lilith heads to the rear door, grasps the handle, but before pushing on it, she turns around abruptly and points her finger at Zelda’s, her jaw clenched. «But don’t expect me to love you forever.» _

_ She bits her tongue, hard, but it’s too late: she’s said it. For the first time, out of rage, but she’s said it, she’s admitted the feelings for her. _

_ «What?» Zelda immediately asks, her voice soft, barely above a breath. There’s disbelief spread all across her face, and somehow Lilith feels betrayed by that: why is Zelda so surprised? Honestly, who wouldn’t fall in love with someone like her? _

_ The dark-haired woman lets go of the handle and crosses her arms over her chest, almost defensively. She shrugs and realizes she can’t really sustain Zelda’s gaze with her own, so she lets her eyes wander around the room evasively. _

_ «What?» She barks back, feeling helpless exposed.  _ _ She can’t lie now and she can’t certainly take back her words; besides, she was many things, but not a coward - like someone. _

_ Lilith corks an eyebrow, a sudden rush of fulfillment sweeping through her body.  
«I love you, alright? I love you.» She blurts out, releasing the breath she didn’t know she was holding. «I won’t go anywhere because I love you, Zelda.» She says again, those three words rolling so easily on her tongue that she’s asking herself why hasn’t she said those before. Now that she has, she finds it very hard to stop, even if Zelda is staring back at her, even if she has her lips parted but remains stubbornly speechless. She waits for an answer, then scoffs, brow knitted. She hopes she’ll be able to conceal the tears that start to threaten to form at the corner of her eyes, blurring her sight. «And I was fool enough to believe you’d feel the same.» She murmurs and there’s hurt in her voice now. _

_ She glances at Zelda one last time, presses her tongue against the roof of her mouth; she still can’t believe she won’t say anything. She'll let her go just like that?  
«You want me to leave?» She inquires, her voice slightly uneven, carrying a challenge. Lilith makes sure that this is the decisive moment: if she leaves, she’s gone forever. She glares at her as the last warning. «Just say the word, Zelda.» _

_ The woman scoffs, shakes her head slowly as she grips the handle again, This time, she doesn’t hesitate before pushing it, cracking the door open. _

_ «Stay.» _

_ Is she dreaming? Is her brain playing tricks on her? Lilith stops, tilts her head slightly, her stomach constricts into a tight knot. _

_ «What did you say?» She murmurs tentatively. Did she really say something or it just had been her imagination? And if that hadn’t been her imagination, then she’d heard correctly? _

_ Zelda heaves a sigh and raises her voice. «Stay, please.» _

Witch _. Lilith mouths, hair concealing her face as she closes the door and backs away from it, slowly turning to face the red-haired woman again. Yes, she’s totally under her spell, because Zelda can say a word and Lilith already knows she’s doomed, her body compelling even before her brain can decide whether it’s a good idea or not. _

_ She rounds the table, she’s running almost, eager to wrap her arms around her and feel Zelda’s embrace around her body in return. The whole room heats up when they kiss, lips colliding into a ravenous fight of predominance. She has just confessed her pure sentiment, now she wants to prove her passion too, and it’s deliciously sinful the way Zelda can follow every movement, every cue, completing her, challenging her, asking for more, and giving just as much back. _

_ Lilith doesn’t need her to voice her feelings, because after all, this is just another way to say 'I l ove you' back . _

_ And so when Zelda pushes her against the table, Lilith lets her without complaints, already far too gone to think about anything else if not that blooming sentiment that threatens her very sanity. She wraps her legs around her waist when the redhead helps her sitting on the wooden surface, hard beneath her and yet so enthralling. They knock things down, but they can’t bring themselves to care, and before she knows it, Lilith is drowning with her kisses, she’s getting lost under her touches, she’s lifted up to new heights with Zelda’s fingers buried in her pants. She can’t think about anything else if not how much she loves her, and then she finally says it back, over and over again, as she suffocates moans into her mouth. _

By the time Hilda had brought up their late-night chamomile tea, Zelda was already feeling utterly spent. Sitting with her legs crossed on her bed, the light chemise wrapping her body without shielding her from the evening chilly air properly, she accepted the mug and linked her fingers around the china, completely unbothered by the hot surface. She blew on it, inhaling the soothing scent that flew into her nostrils, and stared into the sloshing liquid, her mind carrying her away.

«I know you’d be upset.» Muttered Hilda under her breath, her attempt to hide her disapproval non-existing.

«I’m not, Hilda.» Zelda closed her eyes and heaved a long sigh. Placing her lips on the brim of her mug, she tilted it and drank eagerly, scrunching her eyes when the near-boiling tea ran down her throat.

«Careful!» Hilda cried out, almost snatching the mug from her sister’s hands. She glared at her sternly before putting it on the bedside table.

«It’s nice to feel something after all this time.» Zelda sustained her glance.

«I wish you’d just stop hurting yourself.» Rebuked Hilda, angrily folding one of Zelda’s jackets that had slipped off the chair and had fallen to the floor. The younger woman paced around the room and sat on the other side of the bed, making sure her sister knew she wasn’t talking about gulping down the tea.

«What was I supposed to do, Hildy? You tell me.» Zelda asked, turning her back.

Hilda frowned, unsure about what to say exactly. When she saw Lilith - or Mary Wardwell, to better say - entering the diner that evening, she just knew it was the first ingredient for the recipe of the perfect disaster.

«I don’t know.» She finally admitted, shifting closer to her on the bed. She hated her ignorance on the matter, her helplessness, her inadequacy to advise her sister, but what could be done, what could she say? Everything seemed wrong: not helping Lilith wasn’t right, but doctors claimed that pushing her wasn’t alright either, so was she supposed to just stay back and watch her sister suffer? Again? And probably even more than when they thought Lilith was dead?

«Nobody knows anything.» Zelda commented, her voice carrying no venom toward her sister, but toward the whole world, to whoever had allowed such misfortune.

«But she’s alive, Zelds.» Hilda whispered, reminding her of one of the small joys that situation actually brought. A consolation prize, but something positive nonetheless.

The red-haired woman scoffed, giving her a broken smile.

«She looked at me like I was some kind of phantom, even after seeing our rings…  _ especially  _ after that.» Zelda swallowed, shaking her head slowly. «She’s in there, I can see her, I can _feel_ her, but she’s lost somewhere I can’t follow. Somewhere I can’t reach.»

«Zelds, eventually, she’ll remember.» Hilda stated, echoing the words all the doctors kept saying. It was the only thought that kept them all hopeful, but it was true?

«What if she doesn’t?» Zelda asked promptly, her eyes watery.

Hilda sighed. There it was, the question she’d dread. She’d often wondered the same, but never out loud, fearing Zelda’s reaction: she had no right to take that last light away from her. She closed her eyes, glanced at her sister sideways while her mouth kept opening and closing, with not a single word coming out of it.

«Well,» the younger woman mumbled, waiting to have Zelda’s full attention before speaking again. «I guess you could try again with her?» She proposed with a small voice and a hint of a smile.

Zelda frowned and cleared her throat.

«What do you mean?» She asked, her voice thick and hoarse with impending tears.

«Fresh start.» She added.

It took a couple of seconds for Zelda to realize what her sister really meant.

«With Mary?» She stammered dubiously, that name still burning uncomfortably on her tongue.

«It’s still Lilith, you know.» Hilda gave her a little shrug, pulling into a warm, comforting embrace when the red-haired woman leaned into her.

Zelda blinked the few tears away from her eyes. Staring at the vanity mirror, she smiled at their reflection as they gently swayed back and forth, mending and soothing each other, giving each other strength and much-needed love. Her heart broke at the idea of her wife all alone in that cottage in the woods, because what if she too needed a hug, who would give it to her? She was determined to change that and soon.

In the past, it had been Lilith who had worked her way into her heart, now Zelda had to do the same and make her wife fall in love with her once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3  
> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	8. Into the woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go, sapphics, enjoy!

AN: Flashbacks in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 8 - Into the woods**

Zelda was taking her time to walk around in the woods. She’d never enjoyed walking there on her own, but somehow this day, a lonely stroll suited her.

The soft chirping of the unknown birds worked like a balm on her soul, the familiar green of the trees filling her eyes with soothing emotions and the sunbeams, lazily filtrating from the leaves to her face, seemed to caress her face warmingly. She smiled when she heard the dead leaves crunch under her dog’s small feet, as he happily bounced to her with his new sticks in his mouth. She tried to take it from him when he presented it to her, they engaged in a quick game of tug-o-war before the corgi gave in. Zelda was surprised by how much he’d changed in the last weeks, almost as if he knew something was different, and he jumped less on the bed when she was in it, listened to her more, cut a few naughty behaviors, and acted more careful around her in general. She praised him and threw the stick again, giggling when the pup almost stumbled on a pile of leaves when he tried to jump over it.

Zelda took a deep breath and kept walking, following a path she knew by heart. How many times she’d been there, crossing the woods to go to the cottage, or backward, late at night, clutching to Lilith’s arm for dear life due to the fear of tripping over something?

When she called Vinegar Tom and he came back with a totally different stick, clearly not having the right one but not keen on disappointing her, Zelda couldn’t help but laugh at him. Scratching at his ears, she realized she hadn’t laughed in a very long time. For the first time in weeks, she was happy because she had a purpose: getting her wife back. Whether she would call her Lilith or Mary, she didn’t really care as long as she would be by her side.

«Come on, VT, it’s getting dark.» Leaving the stick into his mouth, she hooked the leash to his collar and took the shortcut to the cottage.

She walked slowly there, emotions crawling up her throat and resulting in unwelcomed tears at the corner of her eyes. She assured the car wasn’t there and forced herself not to wonder where her wife was when she approached the building. She wrapped the loose end of the leash around her hand when the dog started to pull her, clearly sensing Lilith’s scent lingering around the area. Zelda shushed him gently and walked up to the mailbox. She took a folded paper from her purse and, mentally kissing the pamphlet advertising Trivia Night at Dr. Cerberus’s, scheduled as always, for the first Saturday of September, she pushed it into the opening.

Releasing the breath she didn’t know she was holding, she smiled down at the dog, which was looking up at her with his mouth open, wiggling his tail, and she decided that it wasn’t too late, after all, to take the long way home.

Breathing in the scent of musk and damp ground, she let the dog loose again, and kept a close eye on him as he explored around. She mentally made a note to wash him that evening, before dinner, and was thinking about the best way to lure him into the tub when she realized she was about to cross the bridge.

She froze, her heart dropping as memories flooded into her brain. She clutched the front of her coat, crumpling the fabric within her fist. Zelda thought she was about to cry, but instead, a smile crept out on her lips: it was a happy memory, after all, one of the happiest, actually.

She walked on unsteady legs on the bridge and stopped right in the middle, leaning against the squeaky fence hoping it would still hold up. She looked at the water, first, she let its slow, continuous flowing soothe her spirit, she searched for little bugs resting on the surface, frogs or toads hiding in some crease, but found none. She sighed and lifted her gaze.

It took her less than thirty seconds to recognize the small clearing she treasured so much, and she ran down that path with her mind, crossed over the small hills, she felt the dead sticks and leaves crumbling and falling apart under her weight. Zelda only needed to close her eyes to be thrown back in time, and she was there, she could see everything, smell everything, feel everything once again: the greed of Lilith’s hand clasping hers, the softness of her fingers running against her neck, the taste of her hungry kisses. She got lost there, and not even Vinegar Tom’s impatient barking could pull her out from her memories.

_She’s running, panting. Her lungs burn almost painfully now, and a disgusting taste raises up in her mouth. She forces herself to swallow the thick lump of saliva, feels it descending down her esophagus, and almost gags at the nauseating sensation. She looks around, the woods unforgiving with all those identical trees, and her head starts to spin - leaves, knotted branches that resemble greedy fingers, musk, and animals scattering around everywhere._

_But she knows she can’t stop. Begging her legs to go further, she resumes her running, speeds up for a moment, until she knows she can take no more, and leans against a tree, back flat against its trunk as she tries her best to make herself little, make her body shrink and hide effectively._

_Zelda closes her eyes, struggling to breathe. She claws at the collar of her coat, suddenly too tight around her neck, but then she hears it: the crunch of leaves, something moving behind her, getting closer._

_She swallows, carefully peeking from behind her shelter and when she realizes there’s nothing there, she attempts to back away a little, eyes locked around the spot she thinks she’s heard the noise._

_One step backward, two, until she’s trapped._

_«Gotcha.»_

_The hand around her neck knocks the wind out of her, the arm wrapping around her waist keeps her from moving. It’s a stranglehold, and for as much as she writhes and squirms, she’s powerless._

_Her own hand flies to grip the fingers squeezing her windpipe and she swallows thickly when the grasp actually loosens._

_«This is a stupid game.» She mutters under her breath._

_«It’s the best way I know to celebrate Valentine’s day.» Lilith murmurs behind her, against the shell of her ear, with a sultry voice._

_Zelda can feel the tip of her nose brushing against the column of her neck. The woman pulls toward her almost roughly, pressing her front to her back, and the redhead stumbles._

_When she’d accepted to participate, Zelda wasn’t sure what she was submitting herself at: she’d just said yes because Lilith had asked._   
_When she realized what this was really about, even though she has never been an outdoor person - not the running type anyway - the thought of pulling back didn’t cross her mind for pride. Now she’s regretting everything and hating the sick mind who invented the Lupercalia and the even sicker ones - like Lilith - that still are willing to take part in that madness of a game. The rules are quite simple: two teams called respectively wolves and hunters, chase each other in the woods, and whichever team collects the most tags, which consist of a white or red flag hanging from a belt of each participant, wins._

_Zelda catches her breath, head tilting slightly back as she rests within Lilith’s hold._

_«I don’t understand why I have to be a wolf.» She mutters, closing her eyes when she feels the other woman’s breath against her neck._

_Lilith’s hand trails down from her throat and moves downward, and Zelda shudders helplessly._

_«I haven’t got any fur in my closet.» She replies through a chuckle, her teeth graze against her neck and Zelda reminds herself to breathe, to focus, to complain because she hates it all and that’s not her idea of the perfect date on the most romantic day of the year._

_A gust of wind crashes upon them and suddenly they’re both engulfed by the crimson, silky material billowing around them._

_«But you happen to have a ridiculous red riding hood cape?» Zelda teases and she chuckles when she feels herself pushed from behind, Lilith propelling her to the nearest tree; she rests her hands on each side of her head now, pinning her between the trunk and her own body in a gentle, but firm squeeze. The redhead can’t suppress the diverted giggle that escapes her lips._

_«Well, it’s not my first Lupercalia.» Lilith smirks, her face close to hers._

_Zelda’s smile dies almost immediately as she frowns, turning her head sideways, cheek almost touching the rough surface of the cortex._

_«It isn’t?»_

_«Jealous, Zelda?» She queries, already smitten with that small vein pulsing on her forehead as she struggles to deny the evidence._

_«Maybe?» She admits, lazily turning over._

_Now facing the other woman, Zelda smirks up at her, getting lost for a moment in the shine of the eyes in front of her, bluest than ever at the natural light of the sun seeping through the trees._

_Lilith watches her back for a moment before taking advantage of the positions to claim her lips, kissing her slowly, lids heavy when Zelda promptly returns the kiss, enhances it without restraints, granting passage when her tongue flickers on the bottom of her lip. Zelda tastes like chocolate and peanuts from the buttercup she stole from Hilda’s lover’s Valentine present before leaving the manor, which makes her giggle into the kiss, but finds herself unable to stop, suddenly inebriated, eager to savor each part of her._

_Zelda’s arms wrap around the woman’s neck, keeping her there, her fingers stroking into the softness of her wild locks, nails scrubbing lightly at the nape of her neck. She moans into the kiss, wondering if she’s actually letting someone kissing in the woods right now and whether she’s actually unable to pull back. Lilith feels good against her, she belongs there, in her hold, and she knows she’ll get addicted to the scent of her skin in no time. The thought scares her, but she’s too engaged in the kiss, her head feels light and deliciously empty, an uncomfortable heat building from her core that easily makes her forget everything._

_They only part when their lungs scream for oxygen, and they stay there, panting, Lilith’s forehead resting against her own._

_She cupped her cheek with her hand, the other hovering on her side, trailing down, stroking the whitish fur she wore with her fingers, pressing hard enough for Zelda to feel her fingers moving through the layers of clothing. Glancing at her, unblinking, she slides to her front and under the unbuttoned fur and gently squeezes at her hip over her navy dress._

_Her breath hitches as the small puff of hot air that heaves from the younger woman’s lips and crushes against her own. Her thumb brushes against Zelda’s mouth, tracing its rim, wiping off the smudge of her scarlet lipstick._

_The red-haired woman swallows thickly, head falling back against the tree, where some of her copper locks get stuck against the rough cortex._

_«We–» She stutters, heaving a ragged breath. She seems to pull herself out of a temporary daze, her green eyes darting around the forest for a while. «We probably have to go back.» She pants._

_Lilith lifts an eyebrow at the hesitation in her voice. She shifts from one foot to the other, leaning in impossibly close to her._

_«Do you want to?» She asks, her hand moving in lazily strokes up and down her hip and thigh. She knows where the other people are, more or less, and she’s made sure that Zelda would run off in that precise direction when the horn was blown, so they can be alone. «I know these woods, Zelda, there won’t be any pry.» She promises. She bites her own lips impatiently, almost scared for the viable answer, and gazes into her green eyes. «So, what do you want to do?» She whispers tentatively._

_Lilith contemplates reassuring her further, telling her that whatever she decides it’s fine, that they have plenty of time and there will be plenty of other occasions, but when she parts her lips, taking a breath to voice her worries, Zelda pulls her close and dives into another heated kiss._

_«I want to be with you.» The younger woman breathes out, a hot caress against the other woman’s mouth._

_«And I, with you.» Lilith pecks a quick kiss on her lips before trailing down, nibbling at her chin, down to the hollow space between her jaw and neck, suckling against the tensed skin beneath which her vein throbs, quick to the beat of her heart._

_When she feels Zelda falling almost limply against the tree, faint, small breaths coming from her parted lips just above her own head, Lilith moves the hand that’s on her hip, fingers splaying wider as she slides back, on her thigh, down to reach the hem of her dress. She groups it in her fist, pulling up the fabric against her bare leg with deliberate slowness; her fingers inch the skirt up to her waist, and she rests her hand there, enjoying the warmth radiating from Zelda’s skin._

_Kissing her neck again, feeling Zelda’s slender finger carding through her own hair, pulling with need, she moves to the inside, gently pawing at the tender flesh there, and driving closer to the apex of her thigh._

_The redhead draws a shaky breath when Lilith rests her hand over her last piece of offending cloth, which still keeps her separated from where Zelda needs her the most._

_Lilith rubs her fingers there teasingly, smirking against the red halo she’s left on her clavicle when she realizes the younger woman is wearing something similar to, if not indeed, lace._

_«Were you hoping for this?» She chuckles against her jaw, the tip of her tongue tracing its way up to kiss her again._

_«One must be ready for every occasion.» Zelda replies, her voice deliciously broken already._

_Lilith hums something that should serve as her approval against her mouth and then swiftly reaches past the upper band of her knickers, cupping her heated core. Lilith pecks her lips before drawing back, parting from her only to study the change in her expression through hooded eyes._

_Zelda inhales sharply through her nose, hips bucking helplessly to meet the woman’s hand when Lilith begins to move, wanton slow strokes, parting her folds, coaxing the tender flesh, exploring every bit of her._

_She sets a steady pace, mimicking the rhythm with her tongue, teeth clashing as their kiss becomes impatient._

_Zelda parts from her, gasping for air, her breaths bleeding into moans when her head falls forward, forehead meeting Lilith’s shoulder, hips rising to meet her hand, chasing her release._

_The older woman holds on to her, her free hand tracing down her side, under the fur, strokes against the front of the dress, kneading the ripe breast, eliciting other moans from Zelda, whose face is buried in the crook of her neck, shuddering._

_Zelda is glad she hasn’t chosen any dress with a pencil skirt for the occasion, the gored line allowing more movement as she lifts one of her legs, hooking her ankle on the back of Lilith’s knee. Leaning almost completely on the other woman now, she feels completely at her mercy, and her mouth opens, suffocating a moan into her shoulder, teeth sinking into her flesh when the new closeness brings new, fiercer thrills that branch out throughout her whole body._

_Lilith’s hand slides on the small of her back when she feels it hollowing as she arches against her chest, bringing the two impossibly close to one another: a few inches more and Zelda would’ve melted into Lilith. She kisses the exposed, withe neck, eyes closed, feeling Zelda's lower muscles twitching over her fingers; she holds her close when her body floods with delightful waves, and Zelda stills and quakes deliciously and she moans and sobs, until the burning sensation ebbs away slowly._

_Zelda slumps her back on the tree behind her, swallowing thickly through an almost dry throat, mouth ajar, trying to catch her breath._

_Lilith is still pressing against her, a sardonic grin plastered on her lips, the hollow crease under her cheekbones even more evident now._

_Zelda can only kiss her, hoping to erase that annoying expression on her face, and it works, for a while, until they have to part again, both in need of air._

_«Say it again,» Lilith murmurs, the tingle of challenge vivid in her tone, licking at her lip. The red-haired woman raises her eyebrow questioningly, «that this game is stupid.» She says as she parts from her, making Zelda wince for the loss of contact._

_«Maybe I’m beginning to like it.» She smirks, hands leaving Lilith’s hair to hurriedly pat on her skirt, settling it down._

_Lilith is staring at Zelda - the blush on her cheeks spreading to her chest, disappearing somewhere beyond the collar of her dress, the smudged lipstick mixed with the darker shade of her own, the green eyes still darkened with lust, the not any more so-perfect dress - when they hear a distant howling._

_Zelda freezes immediately, searching for the older woman with a concerned expression as she wipes at the outline of her lips with her thumb, blindly fixing her makeup._

_«What is that?» She asks, instinctively drawing closer to Lilith._

_«You know there are no wolves in Greendale,» the dark-haired woman reminds her. The other nods: of course, she knows. But that is simply unusual, «now, that, Zelda,» she says, clicking her tongue as she points in no direction in particular, «means that the teams are tied.»_

_«Tied?» Zelda wonders, almost forgetting they were still in the middle of the game._

_«And we most likely are the last ones, so… seems like one of us will bring the decisive point-hey!»_

_Lilith looks down at her waist in horror when she realizes that Zelda has just taken advantage of her, distracting with that batting of her eyelashes on the green of her irises, and she’s snatched the white tag off her belt. When she lifts her head, the redhead is smiling victoriously at her, the flag hanging loosely from her fingers, swaying back and forth._

_«Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to collect my prize.»_

_Lilith raises her eyebrows so high they almost meet her hairline._

_«Haven’t you already?» She questions, voice high, almost in shock._

_When the woman leaves on unsteady legs, Lilith stares, lips parted, mesmerized._

_Zelda flicks a perfect auburn curl behind her shoulder and smirks._

_«Not quite, no.»_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3  
> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	9. Bookmarked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

AN: Flashbacks in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 9 - Bookmarked**

_[Three weeks before the crash]_

_She’s looking at the moon, seemingly bigger and brighter than usual, her eyes studying every darker halo, every shadow on the silvery, round surface. The sky is black, spotted with billions of pulsing stars, and she feels so little compared to all that infinite beauty that will outlive her, only to be admired by millions of other hopeless, enamored fools whose heart is going to break._

_She wonders when she’ll stop hurting, perhaps next time Lilith leaves, but then she knows she’ll probably never stop hurting whenever Lilith leaves her behind, no matter the reason._

_She’s not angry, of course, work is work and her passion is the most important thing to Zelda, but for once she’d like to stop suffering at the idea of being parted for so long: tomorrow, she’s leaving for Europe and they won’t see each other - nor hold each other, nor speak to each other without the assistance of some technology - for three, long weeks. She would come back on the day of their sixth anniversary and although there’s no better way to celebrate, Zelda feels emotionally fragile now. Despite trying to stay strong as always for her family, she can’t help feeling sorry for herself, craving nothing else but begging her wife to stay. She bits her tongue: she knows she can’t. It’s just a moment of weakness, it’ll pass, and then they’ll continue with their lives, planning their future, increasing their contentment and happiness to the next level._

_She inhales slowly, expanding her lungs to the limit as she breaths in the scented air of early July. Blinking the annoying tears away from her lashes, she pushes on the floor lazily one last time before tucking her legs under herself, letting the porch swing lull them with a gentle swaying motion._

_Lilith’s head rests on her lap as she scribbles on her notebook, an old volume balanced on her bent knees. Zelda combs through the woman’s dark hair, fingers raking blindly between her locks, untwisting small tangles in their wake; she wishes she could stop time, let tomorrow never come, grow old right there on the porch of the house, with the moon and the stars watching over them._

_Resting her head on the back of the padded chair, she keeps scraping lightly at her scalp, her free hand snaking under Lilith’s shirt, fingers seeking the warmth of the taut skin of her stomach._

_Lilith’s breath hitches._

_«Zelda–» She warns, voice soft and trailing off on the end._

_«What? My hand is cold.» She whispers, faking innocence._

_Lilith lets out a small chuckle._

_«So I’ve noticed.»_

_They stay there for a while, silence descending upon them once again. Zelda closes her eyes, exhaling a long breath, relaxing at the swaying to the soft chirping of the crickets, melting with all the other noises coming from the forest._

_She takes another deep breath and sighs, her hand moving on its own volition in circles over the other woman’s abdomen._

_«Read to me.» She whispers._

_Lilith tilts her head back, neck stretched as she looks up from her lap, brow knitted in confusion._

_«Read what?»_

_Zelda doesn’t move._

_«The poem you’re translating.»_

_«It’s not finished.» She mumbles, defensively, tapping the gnawed pencil on the white page of the notebook, the book shifting from her legs._

_«The bit that is, then.» Zelda offers and hears the other woman sigh, short on excuses to shy away._

_Lilith mumbles obscenities under her breath, words spoken so softly that don’t reach the redhead's ears, then she clears her throat, turning the pages with hurried fingers._

_«She seems to me equal to gods, that woman, whoever she is who opposite you sits and listens close to your sweet speaking–» She begins, her low voice carried quietly by the winds, «and lovely laughing - oh it puts the heart in my chest on wings, for when I look at you, even a moment, no speech is left in me.» Lilith pauses, looking up, teeth scraping at her bottom lips as she gazes up at her wife, her peaceful face as she listens with her eyes closed, looking almost asleep. Her heart clenches. «No: tongue breaks and thin fire is racing under skin and in eyes no sight and drumming fill ears,» she swallows the lump in her throat, trying so hard to ignore the ticklish sensation of Zelda’s fingers snaking up under her shirt, «and cold sweat holds me and shaking grips me all, greener than grass–»_

_«I am dead - or almost, I seem to me.» Concludes Zelda with a whisper._

_Lilith almost pouts, lips parted as she keeps looking up, and when her wife peeks at her through hooded eyes, she can’t restrain the fond smile that paints on her lips._

_«You went through my stuff again.» She states through a diverted chuckle, shoving the notebook between the pages of the book to put everything on the wooden table within reach; she merely scoffs at the pencil when it falls down, rolling somewhere, getting surely lost forever._

_«It was unintentional.» Zelda justifies. «Hilda and I spend hours every day picking after you.» She says without venom, fingers cradling the nape of her neck._

_Lilith hums, a soft smile widening on her lips as her lids fall close._

_«Geniuses are messy, it’s common knowledge.»_

_«So very humble.» Zelda quips with mirth in her voice._

_Lilith hums in agreement, nodding eagerly just to make her wife giggle. She’s going to miss that. When will she hear that heartwarming laughter in person? The woman hopes she can manage to stay awake all night, until morning, just to be sure to impress as much as she can about Zelda: her soothing breathing while she sleeps, lips slightly parted, the soft glow from her skin when the dawn sunbeams sweep through the blinders, her fingers filling the hollow spaces in her hands so perfectly._

_Lilith rolls on her side, nestling her cheek into her lap as she wraps her waist in her arms, keeping her close, and Zelda’s hand slides on the small of her back in the process, and Lilith sighs at the unintentional caress on her hip._

_The dark-haired woman wishes she doesn’t have to leave, she wishes for Zelda to be able to follow her around the world, but she can’t, of course she can’t, with her own work and the kids that count on her. They need her just as much as she does, but they’re kids and they deserve such a strong, steady guide like Zelda in their lives. She, on the other hand, is an adult: she can manage._

_«I’m going to miss you.» She mumbles against the sheer silk camisole top she’s wearing, snuggling even closer to her, almost as if she wanted to melt into her body with her own._

_«It’s just for a while.» Zelda says and neither of them can tell if she was telling it to herself or Lilith, trying to sound encouraging._

_Unable to shrug off the need of feeling her warmth, Lilith’s hand snakes undisturbed under the hem of the vest, fingers splaying on the pallid skin she finds there. She closes her eyes, breathing in the familiar scent that smells like home, hoping she’ll be able to bottle it up in her brain, somehow, and carry it around with her during her leave. She’s done it dozens of times already, but every time is painful. Also, she can’t quite put her finger on it, but there’s something different about this time in particular. Or, yes, maybe she knows what it is: the recent events have inevitably dragged them closer, their bond seems as strong as ever, so of course parting from her hurts just a bit more than usual._

_«I can’t wait to come back already, so we can keep trying.» She presses a reverent kiss on the soft skin of her stomach and tickles her belly button with the tip of her nose until Zelda squirms, the air filling again with her chiming giggles._

_«And I’ll be waiting for you.» Zelda smiles down at her, waiting for Lilith to open her eyes back. When she does, the hand that cradles her dark head beckons her up, trapping her lips into a kiss._

It had been a rather uneventful week when it came to fatalities around Greendale, and although part of her brain was starting to tickle with the eventual monetary issues, the other was positively glad for the free time conceded. She often found herself wandering around the house with fewer sad thoughts and more excited ones - just like it should’ve been - and as she tidied up rooms that didn’t really need tidying up, she also planned things in anticipation of future encounters with Mary.

It was as if suddenly she’d realized there was something worth to fight for, something that without Lilith had lost all meaning.

That fateful night, at the diner, they’d establish to take things slowly, and although the new knowledge concerning their marital status that had implanted helplessly into Mary’s brain had sped things up, it only served her as proof of their undoubted need to bond.

She’d contemplated many times the idea of asking Mary to move in, but that would be too much and after the woman confessed she was comfortable at the cottage, quite enjoying her loneliness and the untimed strolls into the woods - something Lilith used to enjoy too - Zelda had to make peace with the idea that she simply needed to have patience: taking things at they came. After all, there was a strange feeling blooming within her that just told her everything would go back to normal, somehow, if she kept trying and hoping. And also carry on with her life.

Therefore, when Sabrina had asked - begged, to be precise - to buy her a novel on the way out to school, she decided to concede to her niece the threat as an encouragement to keep her grades up for the year to come, and as soon as she finished cleaning the kitchen after the family’s breakfast, she activated the voicemail for the mortuary just in case, locked the house, and drove downtown Greendale, headed to the bookstore.

Zelda could well remember the last time she went there, another happy memory that ended in disaster, but she was determined not to think about that, not now, not ever. She pushed the glass door and entered the shop, feeling somewhat relieved that there were many people inside, chatting or scanning the shelves in search of their next reading, some others just enjoying the quiet place and taking advantage of the annexed cafeteria to discuss the most interesting topics. The general atmosphere reminded her of her days at the college, and the memories brought a nostalgic smile to her lips.

For a moment, she considered the idea of asking good ol’ Cassius to direct her to the right shelf to retrieve the book she wanted, then she glanced at the clock, and decided it was early enough to allow herself a casual round of the store: who knew she’d find something for Hilda or Ambrose too. Or for Mary.

First things first, however, Sabrina had the priority, so Zelda headed to the horror section and scanned the books, tilting her head slightly to look for the right author; once found it, she chose the seemingly well-kept volume, one without creases or scratches on the cover and resumed her stroll between the shelves. The smell of libraries and bookstores was one of her favorites, it had been since she was a little girl, and somehow she also liked the psychedelic sequences of random colors on the covers, often colliding with one another as they fought for predominance over their neighbors. Soon enough, she found herself wandering in the cooking section, and let her eyes rake on those colorful books with grinning chefs or desperate housewives on top. Hilda had nothing to do with them and instead of deciding which one her sister could be most interested in - French cuisine or how to make gourmet leftovers meals - she seriously wondered why on Earth Hilda hadn’t written a cooking book yet, climbing the charts with her bestseller recipes album.

She would find something. Shaking her head and refusing to buy one of those erotic novels of hers - who knew which one she owned already anyway - Zelda moved to the philosophy section and tried her best to remember which classic author Ambrose was smitten with at the moment. Was he talking about Epicurus, the other evening at dinner? Or was it Socrates? No, she remembered Sabrina mentioning a statue from Canova, so it must’ve been Apuleius. Smiling satisfied when she found a reprint of the _Tale of Amor and Psyche_ , she put it under Sabrina’s and pursued her pacing.

A sense of mild despair washed over her when she wondered what Lilith might like now, as Mary: crime, romance, horror, historic? How could she decide on the right present for a person she didn’t know anymore? Perhaps she could compromise herself and buy her some Sarah Waters novel? No, that would be presumptuous.

Sighing, she tried not to overthink about it, hoping that the right book would magically appear in front of her, and she noticed must’ve spaced out for a moment when, reading one of the titles, she realized she was in the children section. She recognized some of the books she and Hilda used to read to Sabrina when she was a toddler, and she would paw at the pages screeching in delight at the figures, her favorite being the pop-ups ones. Zelda made a mental note to pay a visit to the attic and save some of those from their forgotten cages once back home.

As she tried to remember exactly which one she would like to retrieve, she realized too late that in order to return to the adult part of the library, she would have to cross the teen area and, of course, the maternity one. While she was at it, there was no harm in snooping around. She might’ve been regretting dumping all that stuff while she was grieving, but she reminded herself it had been a part of her healing process, so there was no need to feel sorry about that. She also thought Hilda had probably a whole collection at home, cherished in some old trunk box collecting dust, but then again, she was simply curious.

She’d just selected one of the most discreet one - no heavily pregnant women grinning as if they were having the time of their lives, no naked babies on the verge of crying - and was carrying it around reading the back when she felt a poking on her shoulder.

«Zelda?»

It was Lilith. _Mary_. Zelda’s eyes grew wide, suddenly painfully aware of what she was holding and the implication of it.

«Mary!» She greeted, perhaps with too much eagerness as she tried to avert the woman’s attention from the book. «What- what are you doing here?» She drew a small sigh, trying so hard to ignore the lameness of that question: what would anybody do in a bookstore?

«I was looking for some new historical novel.» Her wife smiled softly, rearranging her glass on her nose. «Although I don’t remember the books I own at the cottage, I feel I’ve already read them all.»

Historical novel, noted.

«That’s because it's probably true.» Zelda commented, well knowing how many books Lilith used to devour before they met. Actually, she used to complain quite a lot because she claimed Zelda took all her free time and distracted her whenever she decided to try and read.

«And what about you?» She inquired, stretching curiously her neck toward the books she was still holding. «Have you found anything interesting?»

Zelda panicked. Backing away just a little, she begged for her brain to elaborate a quick and convincing answer.

«Oh, er- Sabrina asked me to buy one of the Shirley Jackson novels,» she hurried, putting the said book on top, covering the compromising one she previously had in plain disposal, «and although I’m not opposed to the genre, the author’s name reminds me of a nasty classmate who–» It took a brief glance of Mary’s shocked face to know she’d slipped. And possibly many times too. She was truly the worst at _not_ talking. «I’m babbling way too much. I’m sorry.»

Mary was staring at her, blinking slowly, lips parted, taking her - and her words - in. She exhaled one breathy sigh and shook her head in confusion.

«Wh- who’s Sabrina?» She asked and it pained Zelda to see the utter fright blazing in her blue eyes.

«Our- _my_ ,» she closed her eyes and took a breath, steadying her emotions, « _my_ niece.» She said, voice finally unwavering. Once the revelation slipped her lips, she balanced the tree books on her hip and rubbed her forehead with her free hand, hoping to ward off the incoming migraine: how could she keep screwing up? She’d said they would take things slowly and there she was, spilling beans everywhere without any warning. «I’m sorry.» She sighed apologetically.

«No, it’s- fine.» Mary hinted a smile, shaking herself out of her dazement. «I’d like to hear about it.» She breathed out, holding her own elbows.

«Are you sure?» Zelda questioned, brow knitted in concern. She hated the situation and she hated that she was the cause for her uneasiness right now.

Mary seemed to sense this and, straightening her back, she widened a smile, nodding reassuringly.

«Absolutely.» She confirmed. «I just need another dose of coffee,» she quipped, «a strong one, possibly.» she chuckled, helplessly infecting Zelda who smiled at her back, so very nostalgic when it came down to hear her wife’s laughs. «Would you join me? I have an hour to kill- If you don’t have anything better to do, of course.»

«I’m free.» Zelda confirmed, following her glance as she searched for an empty table at the annexed cafeteria. «Just let me pay for these, first.»

Taking advantage of Lilith’s temporary absence as she occupied a table for them, Zelda bought the books and a black and white magnet with Hilda’s favorite tv shows poster on top. She made sure that the compromising volume was at the bottom of the stack and retrieved her bag.

As soon as she sat down, across from the dark-haired woman, she finally felt at ease: the bag secured by her leg and Lilith gazing back at her, about to spend some quiet time in her company. What more could she ask?

«What can I bring you?»

Zelda looked up at the waiter, silently questioning how could she zone out so easily and ignore everything that happened around her.

«Coffee for me.» Mary said, then she stared. «and…?»

Zelda felt an inconvenient heat radiating from her cheeks. She craved coffee, but she had already had a cup that morning and she really shouldn’t have exceeded.

«A squash.» She said with a smile.

The young waiter nodded and brought back their order in record time.

Both nursing their beverages as the mug and glass contained the most expensive liquor, they threw glances at each other in silence. What surprised Zelda was the complete lack of awkwardness between them: how many evenings they would just lay side by side on the sofa, both deep lost in thoughts? It was like living that all over again and she was feeling at peace.

«So, tell me about your niece.» The woman asked suddenly, her voice low and engaged. «Sabrina, was it?»

Zelda couldn’t help herself from smiling. Her niece was everything to her, and only mentioning her name filled her heart with pride; it had been the same for Lilith, of course, even if they were not relatives by blood, and perhaps, one day, even that would return to normal. There was nothing that could make her happier.

«She’s my younger niece.» She sighed, almost sappily. «My sister and I raised her since she was a baby and now she’s quite ready to go to college. Next year.» She thought about mentioning Ambrose too, but then considered it was better for Mary to ask if she was indeed ready to take in any more information.

«Oh, I see.» The other woman gave her an amused smirk. «Her parents didn’t want to buy her the book, so she asked her auntie who can’t say no to her.»

«No- _yes_.» Zelda admitted with a chuckle: it was true, Sabrina knew how to work her with an extra hug or a strategic pout and she just learned right away how to take advantage of the redhead crazed hormones to obtain everything she wanted; also knowing she would soon be away to study had made Zelda exceptionally permitting. «Yes, it’s true, I have a soft spot for her. But it’s not like her parents denied her anything because, well, I am her parents- and Hilda, of course, since our brother and her wife died on a plane crash two months after she was born.»

Mary was staring at her wide-eyed again. Her smile was gone and she was pale as if all the blood had been drained from her face. She gasped silently, opening and closing her mouth multiple times before mumbling some apologies.

«I’m terribly sorry.» She stammered, eyes watery. «That was rude of me, I–»

«You don’t need to apologize, Mary.» Zelda offered her a reassuring smile and let go of her glass to reach out on the table and grab her hand. She was glad the woman didn’t pull away. «You didn’t know, you don’t... remember.» She pointed out with a small nod. «Anyway, that was years ago.»

Turning her hand so she could squeeze Zelda’s fingers back, Mary looked into her eyes and smiled hesitantly at her. When she deemed it was safe to talk again, she threw a sympathetic smile at the redhead and lowered her glance.

«One could say that your family does not agree with planes.»

Zelda let out a peal of laughter. She’d missed her sense of humor, how she could manage to make her always smile, even in the most difficult times.

«One could definitely _shout_ that.» The other replied, nodding in agreement.

Mary insisted on knowing how it was to raise Sabrina, she asked what were her interests, passions, what color her hair was, if she looked like her father or mother, whether her attitude resembled Zelda’s or Hilda’s. They talked for a long time, and being Sabrina Zelda’s favorite argument, always acting like the proud aunt she was, she only lately realized she actually didn’t know anything about her wife’s current life. At first, she hadn’t asked because she feared she might intrude, but now the curiosity was devouring her, and, seen the level reached, there was nothing holding her back, now.

«Mary?» She started, nibbling nervously at her bottom lip. When the woman gave her a reassuring smile, Zelda worked the courage to ask. «What do you do now? I mean, all day, in the cottage.»

Was she being rude? Too nosey? Zelda sighed. She knew she might’ve been, but she was genuinely worried: everybody needed money to survive and something to occupy the tedious hours of the days, especially when Mary lived alone in the forest. Did she have any friends?

The dark-haired woman shrugged, pushing back her glasses that had fallen too close to the tip of her nose.

«Oh, I- uhm, study for the most part of the day trying to fill in the gaps, do chores, I guess, like everybody else,» she added with a small chuckle, «and the closest thing to a job, if that what you’re asking, is me tutoring some kids from Baxter High after school. Just assignment, really, mostly essays.»

Zelda nodded, hinting a smile. It was close to her previous job when she was still Lilith, but tutoring kids was something her own tutor, the woman she’d borrowed the name from, would do. At least she was happy her wife had something important to do, to get passionate about.

«I was worried you would–» Zelda murmured, trailing off, not really sure how to continue.

«You don’t have to worry about me, Zelda.» The woman assured her.

Zelda took a sharp intake of air at that. She missed the woman’s voice calling her own name, and of course, she worried, she would worry about Lilith forever: she was supposed to do just that, as her wife. But she couldn’t say that to her.

«Yes, sorry.» She mumbled hesitantly, shaking her head to conceal the sorrowful smile that appeared on her lips.

Zelda wished they could stay there forever, chatting about anything else, really, but her heart sunk when she noticed Lilith glancing at her phone, checking the time. With a reluctant sigh, she threw a glance at her and Zelda could easily anticipate her words.

«I’m really sorry but I have to go.» She informed, pushing the chair with her leg as she stood up and collected her handbag.

«Sure.» Zelda sighed, biting on the inside of her cheek. «See you around?» She chirped, unwillingly peering up at her with hopeful, glimmering eyes.

Mary stood there for a moment, and there was something sad in her smile that the redhead couldn’t quite comprehend. She nodded, faintly pursing her lips into what Zelda fantasized being the shadow of a lost blown kiss, and started to walk away. Then, when she thought she was gone, Lilith turned abruptly on her heels, and, frowning, she rested two fingers above her lips, thinking.

«I was wondering if you- if you’re going to trivia night at Dr. Cerberus.»

Zelda stared at her with parted lips, almost disbelieving at the idea that her plan had really succeeded. She blinked, smiled, and nodded sharply.

«Yes, I’m helping my sister: trivia nights are always tough.»

And then Lilith smiled, really _smiled_ this time.

«See you soon, then.»

Zelda did everything in her power to push back the tears. «See you soon.»

* * *

Check out this [POST](https://mementomori-demimonde.tumblr.com/post/636321345349844992/oh-dont-cry-just-yet-things-get-worse-better) for facts about the chapter (oh, please don't hate me just yet!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Anne Carson for taking your Sappho’s translation and changing a few things for my own pleasure (and for the sake of this story I guess?). Original translation posted on my tumblr: @mementomori-demimonde
> 
> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	10. Trivia night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

**Chapter 10 - Trivia night**

She was staring insistently at the storefront, eyes lost on the lazy traffic outside in the streets. She glanced at the clock again and sighed, silently wondering when Mary would arrive, or if she would come in the first place: Mary had only asked her if she would be there, it wasn’t like she’d asked her out on a date. Nothing about it was final and Mary wasn’t obliged to show up. Zelda couldn’t even blame her.

«She’ll come.» Hilda tried to tell her with a reassuring voice.

The woman allowed herself to properly breathe, and smiled when she eyes the curious wig on her sister’s head, still not used to it after years and years; Hilda rocked that look and seemed to be comfortable wearing her iconic Elsa Lanchester's Bride of Frankenstein costumes just as much as her fiancé was comfortable wearing his Dracula one, and she only wished she had their same confidence because she couldn’t really dwell on the fact that she was dressed up as well that night, and she was hating it all: although she liked the character assigned, her legs were uncomfortably constricted into the tight skirt, the tentacles dangling around her ankles threatened to be tricky, the material on her shoulders was itchy, and the neckline was scandalously low, which made Zelda particularly self-conscious. She’d refused to dye her hair black to complete the Morticia look but agreed on the black lipstick when Sabrina had practically begged her to wear it.

There was a time when Zelda had thought that the need of celebrating another Halloween at the beginning of September was excessive, but on the other hand, Greendale seemed to be into it - the macabre, the horror, the unconventional atmosphere of Dr. Cerberus - and since the first Trivia Night had been planned, people had flooded into the diner, and soon the first Saturday of September and Trivia Night at Dr. Cee became rather the event.

Lilith used to love it: she would begin serving at the tables, helping out as she was supposed to, but only lasted for an hour top, then she would join whichever team Sabrina or Ambrose were in - sometimes just played for both, causing quite the chaos for cheating and abetment - and forget why was she there for. A smile crept on Zelda’s lips at the memory, quietly unfolding right before her eyes.

People were starting to pour in, kids around Ambrose or Sabrina’s age mostly, but some adults too, already chatting and laughing, eager to eat and enjoy themselves.

Zelda wasn’t paying attention, too caught up in her reality to care about that one, to even notice her niece had entered too, her friends in tow, and she snapped out of her dazzlement only when the girl placed a smacking kiss on her cheek.

«Hello, Aunties!» She greeted hurriedly before jumping behind the counter and disappearing under it as she knelt down to retrieve the special supplies Hilda and her boyfriend always left for her.

«Try to make those last longer, this time.» Warned Hilda with a chuckle, already knowing Sabrina and her friends would feast on the chips and candies and return to her multiple times sporting puppy eyes and carrying empty bowls which she would promptly refill for free.

Zelda was about to give her own warnings, reminding her niece not to take advantage of Cee’s generosity, when she heard the bell above the entrance door chime. She hadn’t really paid attention to it until now. There was a shiver suddenly running up her spine, almost as if she  _ knew  _ her wife was finally there.

Indeed, when she turned, there she was Lilith - Mary - looking curiously around, an enthusiastic grin blooming on her nude lips, blue eyes shimmering behind her glass, hair tied up into a braid with few loose threads resting on the sharp cheekbones, wearing a simple raisin dress and flats.

«Mary!» She called, waving her hand to get her attention.

The woman looked around for a while, frowning as she figured out where the voice came from, then when she caught Zelda, she waved back and walked in her direction.

«Good evening Zelda, Hilda.» She greeted, giving them both a smile, then her eyes glanced at the redhead. «Love your outfit.» She commented with a tilt of her head.

Zelda huffed, slightly irritated.

«You look-» _ pretty, beautiful, different, so out of reach, _ «good.» She smiled back. Zelda was about to walk closer, determined to engage some small talk before asking if she was up to spend some time together or she just came there to actually take part in the game, when Sabrina emerged from behind the counter, her bowl secured under her arm. The girl practically ran to them, then stopped abruptly in front of Lilith, who just stared at her clearly confused.

«I’m Sabrina.» She murmured, a nervous grimace appearing on her lips.

«Of course.» Mary outstretched her hand, offering a polite smile. «Zelda told me everything about you.»

Zelda saw the girl beam at that, throwing a hopeful glance at her, before happily grabbing Mary’s hand and shaking it. It hurt Zelda to see her niece fidgeting on her spot, tormenting her fingers as she tried to fight the impulse to leap into her arms, as she always did with Lilith; and the girl hadn’t seen her in months, now. Zelda put her hand on the back of her head and briefly stroked her hair, hoping to give her some comfort.

Sabrina bit her lip, opened and closed her mouth a few times before sighing, clearly gathering some courage.

«You’re joining our team?» She asked, and Zelda was aware of the puppy glance she was giving Mary, the same Lilith had taught her to put on in order to persuade people to do her biddings.

Feeling discomfort for the pregnant pause that had descended between them, Zelda gasped silently and smiled encouragingly at her niece.

«Leave Mary alone, darling.» She suggested with a sweet voice, pushing a loose thread of hair behind her ear.

Sabrina looked at her sheepishly and was about to nod in understanding when the dark-haired woman cleared her throat.

«It’s fine, Zelda.» She assured, then glanced down at Sabrina and gave her a wide smile. «I’d love to join your team.»

Zelda watched as Sabrina slid her hand in Mary’s and tugged enthusiastically to her booth, where she promptly introduced her to her friends. It warmed her heart to see her niece sitting next to her again, chatting and laughing as nothing bad had remotely happened. It was like realizing just now how much her family missed Lilith’s presence too.

She sighed and exchanged a knowing glance with Hilda, who managed to reassure her with a simple smile.

«Chop chop, _Querida_.» She quipped, shoving a tray into her hands. «Clients are waiting.»

Zelda rolled her eyes with fake annoyance, secretly glad she had something to do to occupy herself with for the next couple of hours. She had to admit that Trivia Nights were quite enjoyable, clamor aside, and that particular one had given her the opportunity to have her wife around, even if not close by.

She would often walk by their booth with the excuse of checking on Sabrina, and by the fourth time she’d passed by, she was sure everybody knew her true intentions, Mary included, but she seemed to not mind the extra attention, much to the redhead’s happiness.

When the game actually started, Zelda sat down on a stool with Hilda by her side, both making sure everybody was fed and had their drinks filled or mostly filled, and that there were no hands waving in their direction to ask for extra fries or something more to eat. In his Dracula costume, Dr. Cee announced the beginning of the games, he asked whether the teams were ready, listed the categories, the rules, and everything else that mattered, but Zelda’s eyes were fixed on Mary.

The woman kept smiling with Sabrina, laughing with the girl’s friends; they all leaned down on the table with conspiratory grins, looking as they were about to rob the BoE. Zelda couldn’t help but smile at the image, the past overlapping the present, showing her all the similarities as well as the differences. She could easily ignore the music playing, and while her feet kept time to the rhythm of Johnny B. Good and Puttin’ on the Ritz, and Dr. Cee started to shout the question and each team chatted frantically and rushed to hit the button and give the correct answers, thirsty for points, Zelda kept staring.

«Horror: what’s the name of the sea town where Lucy and Mina resided?»

She saw Mary bit down her lips, waiting for her teammates to elaborate an answer, and when she saw they were lost, she cupped her hand around Sabrina’s ear, who promptly slammed her hand on the button.

«Whitby!» She shouted before anyone else and when Cee confirmed the answer, she found herself clapping despite the playful, general discontent, and mentally she was there, in that booth, celebrating with Sabrina, her friends, and Lilith.

«History: how did Marie Antoinette call her companion, the countess of Noailles?»

Zelda heard Hilda giggle beside her.

«I suggested it.» She said with an amused grin of a child who did something naughty, her shoulders raised almost comically.

«Hildy.» Zelda scolded her playfully. «That’s mean. How can anyone know–»

«Madame Etiquette!» Her wife’s voice echoed above the confused buzz of the other players, unsuccessfully discussing with the members of their teams.

«Correct!» Cee confirmed and Sabrina’s team exploded into a thunderous applause.

Zelda drew a shaggy breath. She wasn’t jealous of her niece, of course - Sabrina needed that time with her, pretending everything was fine, simply Lilith with a different name - but Zelda would’ve given anything to just forget her place and steal Lilith from there, hold her, talk to her, tell her everything hoping she would remember, at least. Knowing she shouldn’t, knowing she couldn’t, was driving her mad. She couldn’t even celebrate their combined knowledge at a trivia game or ask Mary to officially join her family for the traditional victory milkshake and that was unacceptable and painful, and unfair.

Zelda wondered if she was doing the right thing, after all, making everyone suffer just to have her close when her wife wasn’t ready to come back to them yet. She rubbed her temple, suddenly feeling too hot and her head too crammed.

«Zelds?» Her sister called, resting her hand on her shoulder.

The redhead wondered if she would ever evolve the ability to hide something from her, one day.

«I’ll just get some air.» She sighed, forcing a smile. «I’m fine, don’t worry.»

Hilda studied her for a minute before releasing her shoulder.

«Alright.» The younger woman conceded. «But I’ll take you home as soon–»

«I’m fine.» Zelda repeated, climbing down her stool and walking steadily toward the door, suddenly craving the warm air outside over the chilly one ejecting from the air-conditioner that cooled the store. What she didn’t know, however, was that along with Hilda’s there was another pair of eyes watching her leave.

She took a deep breath as soon as she was outside, the warm air of summer filling her lungs, working as a balm on her spirit. The stillness of the street was a welcoming change from the annoying chattering still coming from the store and she rounded the building, yearning to be out of eyesight since she could almost feel Hilda controlling her through the windows. She walked around the corner and planted her hands on the slam of her back, pacing up and down under the yellow halo of a streetlight, basking into the quietness of the moment.

There was a time when she loved being alone, actually craved it, now she just felt drawn to the one person she couldn’t be with and it shattered her heart. Perhaps she would only have to learn how to be lonely again, because, after all, if she really searched herself, she knew couldn’t  _ really  _ be totally alone.

«You’re alright?»

Zelda spun on her heels, startled by the voice.

When she saw Mary peeking from behind the building, teeth scraping at her bottom lip as she tried to hide her blatant uneasiness, Zelda released a breath and smiled at her: she was still her wife, after all, and the concern written on her face warmed her heart. What saddened her though, was that Mary was hesitant around her, and where Lilith would almost jump into action, probably holding her without thinking twice, she had to settle for a meek woman who was afraid to intrude.

«Yes,» Zelda nodded, resuming her walking, but slower this time, «just a little overwhelmed.» She said, a small chuckle escaping her lips as she went to toy with her necklace.

Mary stared at her for a while before deciding to walk toward her.

«Those guys can get loud.» She confirmed with mirth in her voice, and sat down on the bench under the light, crossing her legs and resting her intertwined fingers on her lap.

Zelda walked toward her and stood in front of the bench, not really feeling like sitting down; she watched her, helplessly thinking about how Lilith had turned almost into a different woman. At first, she thought the trauma and the memory loss were to blame for her behavior, now she had to accept that her wife had gone through an actual transformation. It scared her.

When she realized she had been staring with a blank expression for too long, she shut her eyes and threw her head back, exhaling sharply.

«I would give anything for a cigarette right now.»

«You shouldn’t be smoking.» Mary blurted out. When Zelda snapped her eyes open to look at her, the woman seemed surprised herself, fingers pressed on her mouth, shaking her head with wide eyes. «I’m sorry, it’s not my place but- it’s a nasty habit and it’s bad for you.» She kept going until her eyes fell close. It was almost as if she had currently lost control over her mind and, more precisely, over her mouth.

Zelda stared blankly at her, wondering if that was her wife taking over, talking to her from somewhere within the woman.

«I know.» She confirmed with a smile - and Mary didn’t even know how much her statement was true. «I quitted, but sometimes it’s just hard.» She mumbled, clearing her throat.

Far too soon she realizes that conversation wasn’t going anywhere, if anything, was making things awkward between them. Cursing obscenities under her breath, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other and contemplated the idea of joining Mary on the bench, but somehow she couldn’t manage to move her feet. She kept looking at the woman in front of her, unable to actually comprehend what was going on inside her head; what was once so easy for her, reading her wife like an open book, now had become the most difficult of tasks. Zelda felt lost and helpless as ever.

«I feel so guilty.» Mary breathed out of the blue.

«Whatever for?» The redhead frowned, and hesitantly took a couple of steps into her direction, closing the distance between them: if she wasn’t allowed to throw her arms around that woman and offer comfort through a hug like she would’ve normally done, at least Zelda wanted to let her know she was there, and that she cared.

«I remember all those useless things and I can’t even remember who I am.» She muttered under her breath, averting her eyes, and despite the harshness of those words, she managed to crack a bittersweet smile.

Zelda knew that it was just a façade, she knew that inside, no matter who she was at the moment, that woman was crumbling down just as much as she was. Without even knowing how she found herself sitting on the bench next to Mary, their sides almost touching. How many times she’d been in the same position with her wife, considering it all but natural, and now it felt like some sort of milestone.

Zelda took a small breath, glancing at her with the corner of her eye, tilting her head just slightly to ease the process.

«Those were your passions, Mary.» The redhead offered with a broken smile. «You loved those things.»

Mary dared to look in her direction. She was nibbling at her bottom lip, her long eyelashes blinking rapidly behind the glasses, similar to frantic butterflies.

«More than anything else?» She inquired, cocking an eyebrow. «I wasn’t that good of a wife.» She commented, giving an apologetic grimace.

At that, Zelda couldn’t suppress a bittersweet scoff. Acknowledging her mistake, she averted her eyes by bowing her head and stared down into her lap.

«You were the best.» She replied with the softest of voices.

How much she’d given to turn that verb into a present one, but it was too soon, she would have to be patient for that. She started to play with her fingers, her ears twitching with the faint buzz of the lights and the bugs flying toward it, the sporadic passing cars speeding down the street, the quiet breathing of Mary beside her. Zelda had that soothing rhythm marked into her heart.

Suddenly, she heard Mary gasping for air. She held that breath for a while before speaking, her head and eyes straight forward.

«I wish I could give you your wife back, Zelda.» She whispered.

The redhead nodded slightly, the tip of her tongue pressed on the roof of her mouth. She wished for the same thing every night before sleeping and every morning before getting up to start yet another day without her Lilith.

«It’s not your fault.» She offered, turning her head completely, and for the first time since she’d sat down, she watched in her eyes. They were surrounded by darkness, so she stared into two black pools; she felt like drowning in them, and she craved to get lost in them. But then she pulled back: she couldn’t afford it, she needed to fight to bring her back.

«If only I could just–» Mary sighed, rubbing her forehead, «remember  _ something _ .» She sighed frustratedly. «You’re all so wonderful, your sister and your niece and _you_ , and it’s not just about me not remembering, I’m robbing you of a family member and–»

«It’s alright.» Zelda blurted out, and then suddenly her hand was on her shoulder. Mary didn’t flinch back at the touch, so the woman went for a reassuring squeeze.

«It’s  _ not _ .» Mary rebuked, barking an ironic chuckle.

Zelda swallowed through a dry throat and licked at her lips as her head got crammed with any sorts of thoughts: was she imagining things, putting hope in her own desires, or did her wife’s yearn to remember wasn’t just a yearn, but a need? What if the thing that could help her, was the same one the doctors had forbidden: a little push? Was she really doing it, at the risk of spoiling everything? But then again, what did doctors know about Lilith, what did they know about love and everything they’d shared?

«Mary?» She called with a soft voice, beckoning her attention. The woman sniffled but eventually deemed herself able to look into Zelda’s eyes. «Are you free next Sunday?» She asked, her voice breaking as she prepared to be rejected. Honestly, it would be only sensible for her to follow the specialists’ advice.

Mary, instead, nodded slightly. The redhead could swear her eyes were less watery now.

«Yes, why?»

«I know we shouldn’t, but–» Zelda took a small breath and pressed her lips together. «I was wondering if you’d like to see some pictures. Family pictures and of… _us_. At my house.» She released the small air still stored in her lungs and hinted a shrug with her shoulders. «It might sound crazy, but maybe it’ll help?» Mary’s face was indecipherable. She kept staring at her with a blank expression and Zelda was regretting even thinking about the proposal in the first place. «Forget it.» She hurried, waving her hand dismissively. «I don’t even know why I–»

«I’d like that.» Mary interjected. «I had the strangest feeling when you mentioned the pictures.» She mumbled, then shook her head as if to ward off negative or irrelevant thoughts. «Anyway. I’d really like that.» She repeated again, then heaved a tensed sigh.

This time, however, she smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beloved gf @Roy88 who suggested the questions for the game.  
> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	11. Now you know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

AN: Flashbacks in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 11 - Now you know**

Zelda had thought she could face the incoming week like it wasn’t going to be a big deal. After all, it was something common, natural, not some life-changing event - not to mention it wasn’t the first time for her, even if under slightly different circumstances - but soon enough, around three days ago, anxiety had settled down in the pit of her stomach, along with a discouraging thought that had started to linger ever more frequently in her brain: she was alone and she wasn’t supposed to be. The upcoming week would be one of the hardest of her life; no, not the whole week, just tomorrow, to be precise.

She’d thought that having Mary over would soothe her spirit, distract her head with some happier momentums, but instead it was only making things worse.

She rearranged the almond cookies for the hundredth time in the plate and glued her eyes on the flickering flames under the kettle for no particular reason, the bluish fire only a mere sight, no different from any other, to get lost between her thoughts. Would there ever be something simple in her life? She had always considered herself as a squared, pragmatic person, never letting something slip out of her control, everything that happened strictly planned; yet, after the crash, she had to deal with the variables that fate had in store for everybody. Zelda could call those "flaws in the system", hate everything about them, but they were still there and she had no other choice than to adapt, trying to get the best out of whatever situation presented to her. _Play along_.

She startled when the kettle started to whistle.

Zelda sighed, struggling to ignore her absolutely wrecked nerves and she glanced at the clock hanging at the wall: Mary would arrive any moment, now.  
Although Lilith could be quite the latecomer sometimes - that was when they hadn’t planned a date or a romantic meeting -, but Mary Wardwell didn’t strike her to be the one to appreciate tardiness.

Zelda settled the cookies and the teapot in her favorite living room, where she lit some candles just to add some coziness in the otherwise dimly lit room.  
It was afternoon, but the downpour of rain had prevented any light from outside to come in through the windows, the lamps were vintage, had lost their powers, and she certainly couldn’t lit the mantle in the peak of the summer season. She decided that, after all, for what they had to do, a little bit of atmosphere couldn’t hurt, and, yes, why not, she could also pretend, in her head, that she was just about to have a quiet afternoon with her wife: Ambrose was in Riverdale with some friends, Sabrina was out with her friends, and Hilda was at Dr. Cee. I would’ve been just perfect if only Mary did remember she was Lilith.

Sighing, she readjusted the pile of photo albums on the coffee table but then frowned. They were already doing something they weren’t supposed to do, hence showering Mary with hundreds of photos all in one could backfire: she was meant to help her, not overwhelm her fragile brain with years of memories worth of photos. She gathered the volumes, let the ticker one on the table, and walked back to the studio in order to put back the others.

Yes, the holiday album would do: Zelda would be easily able to show her family in a rather safe environment. It was a collection of bright, carefree days and quite frankly she was eager to awaken some happy memories in Mary’s head, at least so she could have something to cling to during her lonely nights in the cottage. She didn’t aim for some grand revelation, just flashes, maybe, comforting sensation, just to let her know she wasn’t alone, she was loved, she would be safe and she would be welcomed home when she’d be ready to return.

Zelda was about to go back to the living room, making sure everything was in place, when the doorbell rang. They’d settled for a five o’clock English tea and there she was, clockwork.

«Hello, Mary.» She greeted as soon as she opened the door and her wife appeared on her porch. Despite her rising anxiety, she found herself smiling at her.

The other woman reciprocated the warm smile and shook off her umbrella, thick drops falling on the wood.

«Hello, Zelda.» She smiled, moving her shoulders under the coat.

It took the redhead a second to realize Mary was soaked: her glasses were fogged and spotted with rain, some of her hair had escaped the bun due to the wind and a few strands were glued to her forehead and neck, her jacket had dark patches everywhere, her boots covered in mud.

«Mary, you’re drenched!» The redhead stated, her voice bearing a tingle of scolding mingled with concern. Now she was regretting not lighting up the mantle. «Come on in.» She urged, snatching the umbrella from her hand and putting it into the stand right behind the hanger.

«Thank you for inviting me.» The woman mumbled.

Zelda closed the door behind them and suggested getting rid of the coat quickly to avoid any risk of getting some nasty cold. She saw her struggling with the rather difficult task since the synthetic fabric seemed to have stuck on her skin, so Zelda helped her take it off.

«How did you get so wet?» She wondered, hanging the coat. «I didn’t even hear your car stopping in the driveway.»

«I walked.» Mary replied, chewing down her lip with a guilty expression. «I know, _awful_ decision, but I couldn’t help myself: the woods just called for me.»

Zelda stared at her pursing her lips, and slowly shook her head. Mary had just admitted to having risked a cold - or pneumonia to be more realistic - for a stroll in the forest in such weather, and yet the redhead couldn’t bring herself to get angry, because it was one of the impulsive things Lilith would do, only to get on her nerves.

«You can wear Hilda’s slippers, the blue ones.» Zelda gestured with her chin. «She’ll kill me if I let you drag mud around the house.»

Mary nodded and pulled off her boots with still some difficulties, struggling to keep her balance. Zelda stared at her, considering if it was safe to overstep and grab her arm to offer stability, but before she could jump into action, she’d missed the opportunity and saw the woman settle her dirty boots on the side and slid her feet into her sister’s fluffy slippers. She sighed.

«Come, I’ve made some tea.» Zelda watched herself raising her arm and offering her hand; her brain glitched, she tried to think fast of something, pretend it was just a normal gesture, but before she could do anything, the dark-haired woman had grabbed it with a swift movement. They both stared down at their clasped hands as if neither of them knew what was happening.

She poured down the tea, the brown liquid settling in the cups and releasing threads of white smoke as well as a sweet, familiar scent into the air. She made sure everything was within reach so that Mary could help herself in case she got hungry or thirsty and pushed the album toward her.

The woman threw her a nervous glance before taking it, sliding it from the coffee table to her knees. She didn’t open it, but placed both of her hands on the leather cover, her pads tracing over the embossed letters that read “beach holidays.”

Zelda let her be for a moment, and quietly sat down next to her on the sofa, close enough for their sides to brush together, but far enough to avoid unnecessary discomfort. She tried to avert her eyes from her wife’s face, but found the task impossible, eager to watch every twitch of her eyebrows, hear every soft sigh, everything that belonged to her wife, once, and that now belonged to another.

She stored every detail in her mind to cherish, just in case.

Mary drew a long breath, the shallow noise vibrating into the quiet room.

«Shall we?» The woman proposed, a nervous smile appearing on her lips.

Zelda nodded encouragingly. Wishing to give her some comfort, she scooted slightly closer, hoping that Mary wouldn’t do the same, in the opposite direction, just to restore the small distance between them. She released a breath when the woman didn’t.

«There’s a bookmark in the middle.» Zelda instructed. «We should start from there.» Before the bookmark, there was a parade of polaroids from her youth, where she would pose with her siblings during their trips around the globe. There would be time to bring Edward and Diana in the scenario, for now, Zelda wanted to focus on them, on the people the woman already knew.

Mary compelled and opened the album on her lap. Immediately, a big photo of a grinning Hilda holding a very young Sabrina appeared on the left side.

Mary smiled tenderly and Zelda could remember the first time she’d showed Lilith the same photo. Getting briefly lost in her own memories about it, she reached blindly behind her and retrieved a small cushion from a corner of the sofa, she settled it on her own lap and propped her elbows on it, searching for a comfortable position to watch Mary as she watched at the photos.

«How old was Sabrina here?» She wondered with a soft voice, her eyes roaming hungrily over those faces.

«She was barely two.» Zelda sighed nostalgically. «Hilda and I took her and her cousin Ambrose to the sea that day.» She told, tapping her fingers on the picture glued to the right page. Mary tilted her head curiously as she peered down, lips parted in amusement as the redhead explained: Hilda had taken the picture where Ambrose was building a sandcastle, the boy - eight at the time - coated with sand, was wielding a plastic shovel and proudly showing his work, while in the background, Zelda was sitting at a table in the shade, wearing a ridiculously large hat, and was holding a cone of ice cream for Sabrina, who was figuring out the proper way to eat it, making a mess.

«Poor baby, what did you do to her?» Mary chuckled, pointing at the next picture.

«We tried to put her in the water, but it didn’t go too well.» Zelda giggled at the toddler’s angry-red face as she clung to her; she remembered the strength with which Sabrina had squeezed her neck with those chubby arms of hers: the hold had been so tight, Zelda really thought she would suffocate and pass out in the middle of the ocean. «Ambrose, on the other hand, was having the time of his life.» She added with a fond smile, pointing at the grinning child in the corner.

She peeked at Mary’s face to make sure she was looking, but her blue eyes were still focused on Sabrina and herself. Suddenly, Zelda felt unnecessary self-conscious, because of the black swimsuit she was wearing in that picture, the same that Sabrina, in her despair, had clawed and was tugging off her shoulder. Lilith used to _love_ that swimsuit.

Zelda cleared her throat and prompted Mary to turn the page again. As soon as the new picture appeared, the dark-haired woman tilted her head, lips bending in awe.

«Aw, I love this one.» She said through a soft smile.

Immediately, Zelda’s eyes softened and she had to muster all her self control not to tear up, even if she didn’t know exactly what for, whether for the picture or for Mary’s reaction.

«You could call it Hilda being avant-garde and attempting a selfie.» She quipped, trying to conceal her quivering voice. «Sabrina was exhausted after merely a couple of hours.» She sighed, letting her gaze roam on the photograph where Hilda, holding the camera, had shot a family picture of all them four: Ambrose beaming beside her, mouth smeared with chocolate, and Zelda behind them, comfortably laid in her chaise lounge as she smiled behind her sunglasses, and Sabrina fast asleep, suckling on her thumb, curled up against her chest, yellow head tucked under her aunt's chin, comfortably nestled in her arms.

The redhead wondered how much time she still had to wait to have a toddler sleeping comfortably on her bosom. She’d wondered the same exact things when she first showed the pictures to Lilith and now it seemed centuries ago.

«You look good together.» Mary commented and turned her head to look at her.

They both realized how close they were at that moment. And as for as brief as the contact was, Zelda could’ve sworn Mary’s pupils had blown, engulfing the familiar blue almost completely before she turned back to the album.

«And then there’s us.» Zelda cleared her throat, clutching at the cushion nervously.

When Mary turned the page again, she was greeted by a grown-up Sabrina waving at the camera, her hand blurred for the movement. Then there was a picture of the four of them hugging, one of the outstanding view - the ocean so blue, much darker than the sky, which was dotted with seagulls - and Zelda wasn’t sure Mary could spot it, but those two small figures in the water were them, holding and swimming together, alone. Hilda had taken that photo.

She chewed on her lip until it hurt, then their attention shifted on the big picture that occupied the other page: on a neutral background, Lilith and herself were kissing. Her own arms were thrown wantonly around the dark-haired woman’s neck. Zelda didn’t remember who took the photo, but that wasn’t important.

She swallowed, feeling hot and uncomfortable all of the sudden, and peeked at Mary with the corner of her eyes to detect any change in her expression, but the woman just stared at the photograph, without blinking, breathing shallow gasps through her mouth.

«Mary?» The other woman murmured. Still nothing. «I’m sorry, is it too much? Or is it too soon?» She inquired. It had been the worst idea ever. «If you want to stop, we can–»

«No.» Mary shook her head and hinted a smile. «I just do _not_ remember.» She stated, seemingly frustrated with no other than herself. She heaved a small sigh and turned to Zelda again, her eyes shining with tears. «You look- _we_ look good.»

The redhead nodded slowly and smiled back.

«We do.» She agreed, releasing a ragged breath. Zelda nodded, getting lost in the thought, hundreds of voices swirling inside her head repeating how good they look together, people had said the same words at the engagement party, at the wedding, wherever they would go, she would hear those words coming from somebody. Before she could react, she felt a lump forming at the base of her throat and quickly turned away, her hand reaching up to wipe away the tears with her thumb.

There were memories cramming her head now, that day at the beach, where the kids were small, and then the most recent one where Lilith was there and they would stroll hand in hand, drawing silly things in the sand with their fingers and then whining when the waves would wipe away their love messages, she saw them kissing again and she felt Lilith’s taste in her mouth and the softness of her skin under her pads and she felt her arms wrapping her, her scent in her nostrils and she craved for her touch, and she craved to hold her hand, and she would crave for that touch tomorrow even knowing she would not have it like it should’ve been, and when Mary grabbed her wrist to unpeel her hands from her face, genuinely concerned, Zelda didn’t see Mary, but Lilith, and helplessly leaned in for a long lasted kiss.

And of course, the woman flinched back.

She had all the rights to do so and the harshness of the gesture, the disappointment that rose in the redhead’s chest was just what she needed to wake up and return to herself.

Mary was looking blankly at her, blue eyes shimmering and Zelda felt a hot wave of embarrassment flush on her skin, on her face, neck, and chest and wished she could just run away and hide from that inquiring and concerned gaze. She couldn’t, not without making a fool of herself - more than she already was - so she buried her face behind her hands and breathed in her palms.

«I’m sorry.» She mumbled, mortified. «I’m so sorry, Mary, I don’t know what came over me, I should’ve never– I’m sorry.»

«Please, don’t.» Mary pleaded, her voice soft. She was still grabbing her wrist and her fingers were now moving soothingly on the redhead’s hand. «Don’t apologize, it should be _me_ , begging your forgiveness for not remembering.»

Zelda let her lids fall close and shook her head.

«Don’t be ridiculous.» She mumbled, hating herself for having led the woman to think such absurdities: her wife - Lilith or Mary didn’t matter - had nothing to feel guilty for.

Zelda took a long sigh and Mary just looked at her, a heavy silence draping across them, both fearing to say something wrong, both afraid to spoil the chance they had. Was it too late, now? Did they really blow up their opportunity?

Mary fidgeted on the sofa, suddenly unquiet, then shifted closer to Zelda, tightened her hold on their joined hands. She stared at her, really stared right through her, through her soul, with the same gaze she’d captured Zelda years ago.

«What’s wrong, Zelda?» Mary inquired, her voice soft, but incredibly firm.

Zelda got a sharp intake of air, she closed her eyes for a moment, shook her head slowly, let out a hint of a chuckle.

«Nothing is wrong...» She mumbled, her voice trailing off. Nothing _was_ wrong, she wasn’t lying, nothing really wasn’t, not in the actual, negative meaning of the word. But a secret was a secret and an omission, an omission whichever way one sliced it.

And Mary was no fool.  
Lilith never had been and she’d also always been able to read her like an open book: Zelda had very little margin of success in hiding something from the woman, no matter which name she went by.

«Then what? Let me help you if I can.»

Zelda stared at her. There was a need in her eyes, the need to help, the same one glimmered into Lilith’s irises whenever something troubled her. Her wife had the incredible ability to make Zelda’s worries her own and of course she had to forget everything and act differently in almost every way but still keep that annoying feature of hers. Zelda felt naked under her pleading gaze.

She shut her eyes tight and let out a frustrated sigh.

«You’re sweet, but you can’t help me.» She mumbled, swallowing through a suddenly dry throat. Was she really about to unburden herself? Putting everything on the plate? Not that she could hide secrets for long anyway. «It’s hard.» The words slipped out of her mouth before she knew what she was saying.

«I know it is.» Mary agreed, sadness gathering into her eyes.

She knew it was hard for Mary as well. It was hard in general and they couldn’t even rely totally on each other as they would normally do.

«I just need _her_.» Zelda confessed through a ragged breath, unable to stop the words pouring straight from the crack in her heart. «I need her _so much_ right now.» She knew it wasn’t right to pressure Mary, to ask her so much when the woman couldn’t give her what she wanted, but it was too late now: she’d started to talk, she wanted her wife and Mary was staring at her and she was listening, and she needed to know, she was begging Zelda to let her know. «I delayed it as long as I could, but now I cannot push forward the appointment anymore and… we were fantasizing about it since we first tried–» She sighed, worrying on her lip. She was babbling an awful lot and probably confusing Mary even further than she was already. _Here goes nothing_. «Anyway, I’ve got the first ultrasound tomorrow.»

Mary was looking blankly at her. She was silent.

Chewing at her lip nervously, wincing when she accidentally scraped hard enough to draw blood, Zelda waited with her heart drumming into her ears. She tasted copper into her mouth and was almost grateful for it, because the nothingness was heavy on her chest.

Mary blinked once, then twice, heaved a shallow sigh, and finally, her eyes moved, roaming up and down her body. Her thin lips, coated into a nude lipstick, parted a few times without a single sound escaping them for a while.

«Mary?» The redhead tried with a soft voice.

It seemed to take a while for the information to settle in the woman’s brain, but when it did, Zelda felt another squeeze around her fingers and Mary’s free hand hesitantly tugging at the cushion that still rested on her lap. She let go of it reluctantly, now fully exposed, completely lacking any sort of veil or shield.

«You’re…?» Mary started, but the voice died in her throat. She knew the sensation, the heaviness of that word so raw and fragile on the tip of her tongue.

Zelda only hinted a smile and nodded.

«Fifteen weeks along.» She confirmed, almost shyly.

The other woman gasped silently at the new information, her lashes fluttering a few times behind her glasses as she took in yet another surprise. When her gaze fell on Zelda, however, her expression quickly changed from taken aback to mortified. «I’m sorry, I should’ve known- or _noticed_ …» She stammered, swallowing thickly.

The redhead gave her a reassuring smile.

«Don’t worry, Mary, it’s not that visible with my clothes on.»

They stared at each other, both at a loss of words. But were words really necessary in a moment like that? And what either could say? After all, she’d just confessed to her wife, who didn’t remember to be her wife and had false memories about being somebody else, that she was pregnant with their child. Their purest, most desirable of dreams, something they longed for. A dream she shared with her wife, Lilith, but didn’t belong to Mary. Zelda couldn’t really expect anything from her.

«I’m sorry.» Mary offered, scooting even closer to her.

When she slightly leaned in, Zelda followed and soon felt herself within her arms.

She breathed in the earthly scent coming from her blouse, she didn’t move aside the few strand of hair tickling her face. It was hard, but it wasn’t anybody’s fault. Even if Mary couldn’t see her, she gave her a warm smile and was sure that the woman _felt_ that.

Although she was determined to make sure Mary knew she wasn’t the one to blame, not in the least, deep inside, Zelda was sorry too.

_[Few days before the crash.]_

_Zelda props her chin on her hand and gets closer to Sabrina’s laptop as she studies her own face on the screen, trying her best to adjust herself and obtain a decent frame. She wonders why that app has to produce that annoying little tune every time she tries to call her wife, drilling into her brain until she picks up, but then again, she’s just learned to use Skype and not being exactly technology-friendly, Zelda has no intention to switch to Zoom or any other devious platform._

_She glances at the clock in the bottom right of the screen and scoffs: Lilith won’t be pleased. And how can she? The poor thing has already not enough sleep without Zelda waking her up in the dead of the night. Zelda bites down her lip, but just can’t bring herself to feel guilty. There is too much going on, too much to say to her, she’s too excited to wait until a more suitable hour. She needs to talk to Lilith and she needs to talk to her_ right now _._

_When finally that ghastly tune stops, meaning that Lilith has actually picked up, Zelda’s breath hitches involuntarily and her heart starts to thump so strong that she can feel it pulse in her temples. Unable to stop smiling already, she reminds herself to just play it cool and avoid spoiling the stolen conversation with her wife._

_«Zelda?»_

_The woman frowns when only a black screen appears. «Lilith? I can’t see you.»_

_There’s a rustling, a grunt, then a flash of moving sheets, presumably a pillow thrown somewhere, and then, finally, the thick mass of dark hair emerges, making its appearance in front of the camera before her wife, her scrunched face becoming brighter as she hitches closer to the screen._

_«How ‘bout now?» She slurs, voice hoarse from slumber._

_Zelda almost pouts, feeling guilty now: judging by the heavy lids hooding her eyes, Lilith is exhausted and clearly needs to sleep - she’s cute, rubbing her eyes sloppily with her hands, trying her best to stay awake._

_«Hi.» The redhead chirps out._

_«Hi.» Lilith mumbles back, propping her head on her hand as she lays in her bed, sheets entangled around her body. «What is it, Zelda? It’s two-thirty in the morning here, is everything alright?» She mumbles without venom in her voice, but genuinely concerned, by the sparkle in her eyes as she tries to blink the slumber away._

_«Yes, everything’s fine.» Zelda assures, musing at the screen for a moment, thinking about how much she missed her wife, about how much she missed doing everything with her, or simply talking to her whenever she wanted… share everything that happened with her, which is a lot, lately. «I just_ needed _to speak to you.» She states, but then frowns, stopping with her lips parted when she notices that Lilith’s eyes are closed, and not because of some glitch nor the wi-fi; then her head sways gently and lolls backward until the angle becomes too awkward and she startles herself awake with a snort._

_«I’m awake.» Lilith cries out, all by herself, shaking her head. «Give me a moment.»_

_Zelda sighs, narrowing her eyes as she tries to catch a glimpse of her wife and understand what she’s doing. Suddenly, she hears water running, more grunts, and there she is again, a towel around her neck, legs crossed on the bed. Now she looks definitely awake._

_«You ok?» She double-checks, an amused smirk spread on her lips._

_«Yeah, what is it?» Lilith inquires, rather impatiently._

_Zelda bits her bottom lip and squirms, which doesn’t go unnoticed giving the confused frown coming from her wife on the other side of the globe. She decides she doesn’t have enough time to tease her, also, she can’t resist a minute longer, but despite having rehearsed that exact moment in her head over and over again, she has forgotten everything._

_«You know I had a doctor's appointment today.» She states vaguely, then realizes she can’t bring herself to say the right words. Luckily she has the papers with her, perhaps she can show her. Nodding to herself, she gets lost in those papers, she flicks through the pages with expert fingers, then beames when she finds the one she was looking for. «Ready?» She asks._

_On her screen, thought confused, Lilith nods, so she holds the paper for her, studying the smaller frame to angle it right. She hopes her camera focuses on the correct string of words._

_Lilith gets closer to her own laptop, scrunches her eyes, readjusts her glasses.  
«What’s that thing?» She mumbles, her breathing fuzzing in the mic. «Divorce papers?» She asks with a fake, dramatic gasp. _

_Zelda sighs frustratedly.  
_ _«Lilith, come on!» She scowls._

_«It’s this damn wi-fi, you keep freezing. I can’t–» Zelda knows her camera has finally focused and the images have traveled for miles to end in a split second through thin air, directly on her wife’s iPad. She can see Lilith’s eyes reading the words over again, twice, thrice, just like she’s done herself, earlier that day. Slowly, her confused expression transforms into a bright smile, her lips part as she gasps. «Shut. Up.»_

_After that, Zelda can’t control herself. She removes the papers and just talks._

_«I’m pregnant!» She cries out happily, somehow saying it out loud for the first time making it seem more real. «Five weeks, according to this thing.»_

_« WHAT ?!» Lilith screams, and Zelda bursts out laughing when she sees her wife clutching her hands on her mouth, wide-eyed, as she probably isn’t supposed to make noise in her hotel room at that unholy hour. «Don’t you dare mess with me!» She begs, words muffled behind her hand._

_Zelda isn’t sure if those small lights are other glitches or her wife’s eyes are indeed watery and sparkling at the bright light of the screen._

_«I wouldn’t dare on this.» Zelda defends with an everlasting smile on her mouth. It’s crazy, she can’t believe she was already pregnant when Lilith left and neither of them had suspected a thing._

_Lilith blinks a few times and her sniffling takes over her mic for a moment._

_«Stand up, I want to see!» She squeals, in the loudest whisper she could muster._

_Zelda chuckles._

_«There’s nothing to see yet, idiot!» She points out, mirth in her voice._

_If only Lilith were there, she can just picture her going all crazy over her, screaming excitedly together, hugging and kissing sloppily everywhere. She feels tearing up at the idea, the loneliness mixing up with the nostalgia as if she’s realizing only now how dearly she misses her wife._

_Lilith seems to sense her sadness above her own and hurriedly distracts her._

_«You’re ruining the mood, Ginger.» She sniffles, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand._

_«I’m not .» She protests, frowning upon being called with that horrible nickname._

_«Yes, you are.» Retorts Lilith, rearranging the laptop on a pile of pillows and inching closer herself. She impatiently collects her legs and props her chin on her knees. «Come on, please?»_

_Zelda can see she’s not joking anymore: it’s like she_ needs _it. After all, she knows that if her wife were there with her, at that moment, she wouldn’t stop gazing and touching her, unable to contain her sheer thrill for the marvelous news. She playfully rolls her eyes and pushes herself away from the desk, making the chair squeak against the hash bristle of the carpet. Indulging her wife’s request, she stands up, eyes glued on the screen to capture each reaction from her._

_She smiles, helplessly, when she sees Lilith tilting her head so that now her cheek is resting on her knee, a dreamy expression plastered on her face._

_«Turn around.» She commands with a soft voice. «Sideways.» She adds._

_Zelda obeys, resting her hand under her breasts to push the blouse against her skin, showing the non-existing bump to her wife. Even if there is nothing to see indeed, it brings her joy and Zelda can just see it even through the screen._

_«I love you.»_

_Zelda sits back down and muses at her image; before she can think about what she’s doing, her hand lifts to the cold screen, fingers ghosting over the moving pixels of Lilith’s face._

_«I love you too.»_

* * *

Check out this [POST](https://mementomori-demimonde.tumblr.com/post/637147520062095360/k-now-you-may-cry-read-im-not-saying) for facts about the chapter (k, now you can hate me.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	12. Matter of chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

AN: Flashbacks in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 12 - Matter of chance**

When reaching downtown, Zelda suddenly jolted forward, prompting the taxi driver to stop there instead of taking her directly to the mortuary. She paid and tipped the guy, who still glared at her subtly for the screeching halt she forced him to perform out of nowhere, for apparently no reason. The woman offered an apologetic smile, but the guy was having none, and just left as soon as she was off.

Zelda sighed, forcing herself to forget about the thing, even though she knew she would dwell on the event for days, eventually feeling guilty for nothing. It was just the way she was and she couldn’t do anything about it.

Also, he didn’t know that her request hadn’t been totally meaningless; although not being an actual emergency, not a life-threatening one, it felt like a vital matter nonetheless: the taxi had been driven by Dr. Cerberus and she now craved Hilda’s chocolate cake.

Given the time, added to the fact that she hadn’t had any breakfast that morning, she couldn’t find a reason not to satisfy it - one of the benefits of being an adult was dining with a slice of cake if she felt like it, even though she would never tell Sabrina that. _Sabrina_. When was the last time they spent some time together, just the two of them? Zelda squinted her eyes while trying to remember whether her niece had told her about previous engagements or upcoming tests, but upon finding none, the woman decided she could perhaps pick Sabrina out of school and enjoy an afternoon of carefree shopping; after all, the girl had grown an awful lot in the last months and she surely needed some new jeans and shirts, and Zelda herself needed to adjourn her wardrobe, so what better occasion?

Yes, it was all set then. She had one hour to eat before the final bell would ring and release the students so she could surprise Sabrina at Baxter High and collect her for one of their dates.

Nodding to herself, she reached out for the diner handle, but at the exact same moment, another hand did the same.

Zelda startled, immediately retrieving, mumbling an apology, and waited for the stranger to go in first, not even bothering to raise her gaze.

«Zelda?»

And then she did, of course she did, when she heard her wife's voice calling her name.

Frowning, she lifted her head and gasped in disbelief when she was met by Mary’s grinning face, blue eyes hiding behind the reflection of her glass, her pupils no larger than two dots due to the sun.

«Mary!» She mumbled, still surprised. «What are you doing here?»

The dark-haired woman let out a soft chuckle, and they both stood rather awkwardly in front of the diner’s door. 

«I could ask you the same.» She pointed out. «I thought you had your doctor's appointment today?»

Zelda nodded, taking a small breath. She knew she wasn’t supposed to be surprised she remembered it - it was a rather peculiar thing to forget, given the situation - but the redhead felt a tug of happiness in her chest nonetheless.

«I was just there.» She confirmed, then let out small laughter to cover the sound of her rumbling stomach, helplessly blushing for the embarrassment. «I’m quite starved.» She mumbled with a sheepish smirk, worrying at her lip.

«Come on in, then.» Mary prompted, pushing the door open. «I was just about to get lunch myself. I’ll get you something to eat.»

Zelda gave her grateful look, but before she could protest about Mary getting her anything - implying she would probably insist on paying - she had already stormed in and sat down in a booth. By sheer coincidence - or maybe not - she had chosen their favorite one and patted the opposite side of the table to prompt the redhead to join her.

Luckily enough, Dr. Cee assured them that their lunch would be on the house. Zelda thought she could stop worrying about Mary insisting on paying, but she seemed to be a little uncomfortable: he was still her sister-in-law’s fiancé, yes, but somehow she felt she was not worthy of such preferential treatment because of her damaged memories. Zelda could sense that and yet she hoped she could find it in herself to get over it and just enjoying being pampered… or simply treated like family.

«How did it go?» Mary asked suddenly, elbows perched on the table while eating her sandwich. She was hovering slightly over her plate, crumbs falling down with each bite. «The ultrasound I mean.»

When Zelda realized she was staring, apparently mesmerized by the woman’s every little action, she cleared her throat and gulped down the piece of cake melting in her mouth.

«Good.» She nodded, slowly. «It was all–» her breath hitched, eyes dropping low, gazing in her plate, suddenly captured by the half-eaten cake there, «good.»

Mary put the sandwich down, wiped her hands, and scooted over her bench, leaning toward the redhead. When Zelda dared gazing up, she felt exposed under the inquiring blue eyes.

«Is there something wrong?» She asked, her voice low with concern.

«No.» Zelda hinted a smile, but she already knew it came out as a bittersweet one even before the other woman’s reaction. Knitting her brow for a second, she started to play with her fork, dragging dark syrup around and shrugged dismissively. «No, my blood pressure is high, but that’s nothing new. And I’m to be expected to have morning sickness for quite some time still, which is not fun.» She let out a giggle, then pressed her lips together tightly. «Overall, we’re both healthy.»

«I’m glad.» Mary offered, but Zelda immediately caught her fingers snaking on the polished surface of the table and she decided to look up at her again. The older woman was worrying at her lip, eyes fixed on hers, fidgeting on her seat, silently asking for more - because of course her wife could sense there was something wrong with her and she was battling from within Mary to let her out.

«I just–» Zelda mumbled, eager to keep Mary from her internal torment. «I just got lonely, in there by myself, that’s all.» She finally confessed and suddenly felt silly as she said so: a grown-up woman getting sad because she got lonely at a doctor’s appointment. Yes, it was a rather unique occasion, something she would’ve surely shared with her wife, but circumstances demanded otherwise.

«What about your sister?» Wondered the dark-haired woman with a frown.

«Hilda has caught a nasty bug and couldn’t accompany me.»

Mary nodded, seemingly caught deep in her thoughts; then she gnawed at her lip, paused, and looked at the other woman in the eyes.

«May I see the picture?» She blurted out, although with a little tingle of hesitancy in her voice.

Zelda was taken aback both by the request as much as by her reaction. Once again, it was as if something had taken possession of the woman for a while and, naturally, she hoped it to be her wife.

«Of course.» She agreed, digging inside her purse to retrieve the folder and handing it to Mary. The woman took in with shaky hands and put it on the table, out of everything that could threaten its welfare, and started to stare down intensely at the black and white picture clipped to the data files.

Zelda watched in silence. On her phone, she also had a brief - three-minutes-long _brief_ , but it never seemed to last enough and had replayed the thing in her earbuds a dozen times already while in the backseat of the taxi - audio recording of the heartbeat, but she didn’t want to push it, so she decided not to bring it forward.

After a while, Mary sighed deeply, handed over the folder, and sunk in the bench, eyes low while the tip of her tongue ran on her lips to moist the suddenly dry skin.

«You could’ve called.» She commented with a small voice, the words carrying all kinds of shades of scolds, pleads, and insecurities at once.

Zelda sighed. And what did she know about the sleepless night she had? Rolling around the empty bed, thorn between her heart which screamed to call her because it was how it should’ve been, and her brain that begged to be sensible because it would’ve been an imposition? After all, if Mary really wanted to accompany her, she would’ve proposed it yesterday before leaving the house.

She nodded slightly and bent her lips into a crooked smile.

«Maybe I will- call you next time.»

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Mary gave her a lonely nod and finished her sandwich with renewed enthusiasm and when she was done, wiping her fingers on the napkin, she leaned back on the bench, eyes roaming over the redhead’s face. It took Zelda a while to notice, but when she did, she felt a hot blush erupting on her neck and put down the fork, pushing the now empty plate with her fingers toward the center of the table.

«What?» She inquired, smiling behind her napkin.

«You look happy.» Mary stated with a little of her head and a small shrug.

The redhead stared back at her, brow knitted at the unexpected remark. She’d just returned from a doctor’s appointment with optimistic results and now she was dining with her wife, she had plans to take Sabrina out and life, despite having her treaded rather poorly lately, was finally giving back. How couldn’t she be happy?

«Well, I am.» Zelda confessed, averting her eyes because she felt, somehow, like she could’ve jinxed her luck.

But then again, would she even be happy in the first place if she hadn’t dared follow her instinct and disobey the doctors?

«Mary?» She drew a shaky breath and pricked her lip with her teeth. «I was planning on taking Sabrina around after school and, well, you’re free to come, if you don’t have anything to do.»

«Oh, no.» Mary let out a peal of laughter and pushed back her glasses. She gently shook her head, but Zelda knew it was only out of politeness. «I wouldn’t want to intrude on one of your aunt-niece dates.» She murmured, frowning for an instant.

Zelda froze, her throat tightening: Sabrina used to call their outings that way. Did Mary really use that special name on purpose? There were very few possibilities for that to come out randomly. She released her breath and reached out, grabbing her hand, her pads brushing in well-known patterns on the back of Mary’s hand.

« _Please_.» Zelda whispered, the word painfully similar to a plea which the other woman couldn’t ignore, whatever name she bore now. «You’ll make her happy.» She said then, not entirely sure if her poor attempt to use Sabrina to her advantage would succeed with minor bloodshed in the form of embarrassment.

She saw Mary pausing, considering the offer, then tilting her head to the side, her blue eyes fixed on their fingers touching, wandering, brushing together in search of some familiar warmth and softness.

«Alright.» She finally breathed out. «If that’ll make _you_ happy.» She added through a conspiratory smile. Zelda could only respond with a guilty grimace, but she couldn’t exactly bring herself to feel bad about it. 

As they stood outside the gates of Baxter High, just like many other parents expecting their own kids, Zelda could feel a tug at the pit of her stomach.

While the others huffed and grunted, complaining about being late for something, the redhead could barely contain the tears: she was standing by her wife’s side in comfortable silence as they waited for Sabrina like they’d done so many times, in the past. Just like any other time, she felt like a normal parent waiting for her daughter, except that Zelda wasn’t really her mother and Sabrina wasn’t really her daughter, even if she felt like it. It never really mattered, truth to be told, not for Zelda and neither for Sabrina, their titles simply meaningless names. And Lilith, even before becoming her wife, had taken upon the role of a second parent right away - amicably contending for the title with Hilda - for both Sabrina and Ambrose. So being there, by Mary’s side, both stretching their necks to spot the familiar bob of golden hair, was for Zelda the closest thing to have her family back.

Glancing sideways at Mary’s face, almost beaming when she presumably spotted Sabrina and waved at her, Zelda couldn’t suppress a smile. She could fight for it. She _had_ to fight for it.

Worrying at her bottom lip, she kept staring. Maybe next time she would ask Mary to go out, just the two of them. Really go out, not spending some time together after bumping into each other randomly.  
She would ask Mary out on a proper… date? Yes, she could ask Mary that. Definitely. Maybe next time.

_Laying in the middle of their bed with only her slipdress on, Zelda stares at the ceiling, seemingly studying the patterns there with unjustified interest; she raises her knees, the silky material of her dress slides up on her thighs, and a strange knot begins to tight behind her stomach. Her ears twitch at the sound of Lilith’s light steps as she moves around the room, collecting things now from the vanity, now from the drawer, and lastly from the bathroom, a string of curses coming from the attached room when she knocks something down and it tipples on the floor tiles._

_Despite the noises, Zelda feels overwhelmed by the absence of an actual conversation, the mere idea of what they’re about to do and what is about to happen, sends chills down her spine, making her squirm with anticipation. Everything suddenly unbearable, Zelda covers her face with her hands and breathes into her palms._

_«This is awkward.» She grunts, the voice coming out muffled._

_There’s a brief pause before Lilith emerges from the bathroom with objects the redhead can’t quite identify; she throws a conspiratory smirk at Zelda and settles everything on the vanity, covering whatever she’s doing with her body. Looking at her wife through the reflection of the mirror, she keeps working with steady hands, blue eyes boring down on the other woman._

_«It is not awkward, Zelda.» She rebukes through a soft smile._

_Zelda huffs, slowly peeling her hands off her face, and rolls lazily to her side, propping on her elbow._

_Studying Lilith’s back as she keeps her hands busy with something, she sighs, taking in the clasp of her black brasserie and matching knickers. Unseen, she scrapes at her bottom lips, with her teeth and blinks away, turning her attention to Lilith’s ministrations; she stretches her neck as far as she can, but eventually gives up, the mirror too high to give her a proper peek. Not that she needs any, she knows - she can imagine - what Lilith is doing, but the redhead feels impatient and craves to be engaged with something interesting._

_«It is a bit awkward.» She eventually resumes, rubbing her calf with the opposite ankle, her eyes dropping, suddenly captivated by the pattern of the duvet, her nail scraping at a loose thread. «If you consider Ambrose, Sabrina, and Hilda sleeping in all the adjacent rooms across the corridor.»_

_Finally, Lilith gathers a few things, balancing everything in her hands skillfully to avoid multiple trips, and settles everything on the bedside table, switching the light on. Zelda doesn’t bother to look now, having something far more interesting within reach, and scoots away, making room for her wife when she starts to crawl on the bed with a catlike motion._

_«Like they never heard us before.» The dark-haired woman quips, gaining a playful swat on her arm._

_«Lilith!» Zelda scolds through a grin, her jaw hanging dramatically, faking an outraged expression._

_The other giggles, drawing impossibly close to her mouth, her hot breath fanning her lips, which part by their own volition. Taking the hint, Lilith clashes against her, savoring Zelda’s waxy lipstick, her tongue running above the seam of her lips before she is granted full access and promptly deepens the kiss. She easily takes the lead, teasing the roof of her mouth, exploring every depth although she knows everything all too well._

_Zelda rolls on her back, parting from her lips when the need for air becomes overwhelming, and closes her eyes when she feels Lilith’s mouth never leaving her skin, tracing a wet trail down her chin, her jaw, and stops to nip on her neck. The redhead knows she’s smirking against a faint bruise she’s just left now, and dares to crack open one eye, silently warning her wife._

_«I mean,» Lilith chuckles, already amused with herself, and ignores Zelda’s grunt of disapproval, «we’ve been married for more than four years, they’re not stupid, they know what we do in the bedroom.» She pauses, and the redhead considers that maybe she’s thought ill of her this time, before another chuckle muffles against her skin. «Not to mention the other rooms–»_

_«Stop it.» Zelda scolds promptly, lifting her head to throw her a final glare._

_Lilith keeps giggling but soothes every murderous intention with open-mouthed kisses on the flushed neck below._

_«Alright, alright.» She murmurs between soft pecks. «Now I’m serious.» She states, slowly leaning on top of Zelda, chest against chest, hips nestled between her legs, comfortable warmth shared between their bodies. Lilith props herself on her elbows on either side of her waist, hands rubbing at her sides, and looks intently up at Zelda who is peering down at her through hooded lids. «All I’m saying, there’s nothing awkward about what we do in our bedroom and it is not a secret anyway: they know we want to try for a baby.»_

_Zelda knows she’s right, but can’t prevent her eyes from rolling upward and the soft breath escaping her mouth._

_«I’m aware of that,» she huffs frustratedly, hands pounding dully on the duvet, «but this is different.»_

_Lilith frowns a little at that, not entirely sure her wife meant to say that._

_«How so?» She asks with a sigh, fingers raking through her own hair, pushing some offending locks away. When no answer comes from Zelda, she lowers herself down, chin resting between her breasts. «It’s not different, it’s nothing but beautiful.» She murmurs, tugging at one of her arms, urging Zelda to uncover her face. «Besides, I don’t want it to be done in some aseptic medical studio with some judgy doctor injecting you stuff.»_

_The redhead gives her a sharp sigh, her glare already softened._

_«You’re right.» She nods, her voice barely above a breath._

_Lilith smiles, placing a kiss on her sternum, the v-shaped fabric of her camisole framing her lips._

_«I want it to be done in our home, in our bedroom, you and I, as it should be.» She croons, fingers hooking under the hem of the offending slip, bouncing it further up her thighs until it bundles around the waist._

_«You’re right.» Zelda replies with a nod, echoing herself, voice already faltering, head falling limply down on the pillow._

_Lilith smirks on the small portion of bare skin between her breasts, tugging slightly at the fabric with her teeth before pushing the slim straps off her shoulders. Briefly detaching from Zelda, she helps her remove the slip off, the pallid skin beneath her suddenly feeling hot against her own, as she slowly lowers on top of her, their hips colliding, bodies sticking together, each molding on top of the other, becoming one._

_She feels slender fingers combing through her hair as soon as her mouth finds the swell of the redhead’s breast, teasing the ripe flesh she finds there, nipple pebbling between her lips. Her hand stops, nails tracing faint lines in their wake, it teases Zelda’s side, ranks at her hip, kneads at her thigh, cupping it from beneath, pulling it closer to her hips, their bodies drawing impossibly close._

_Lilith’s ears twitch at the broken moans she’s eliciting, mind floating almost empty, every fiber of her being concentrated on Zelda and their common desire. She nips at her flesh, thinking that everything is perfect: her wife seems engaged and finally relaxed. But then she feels her tensing slightly, her pants becoming shallower despite her efforts._

_Zelda halts, tilts her head to the side, and heaves her chest, filling her lungs with air._

_«It’s just–» She wheezes._

_Lilith grunts, shutting her eyes closed and resting her forehead on the milky expanse of her stomach._

_«What?» She wondered, her voice muffled, but preserving the clear tingle of a plea._

_Zelda moistens her lips with the tip of her tongue, eyes fixed on the ceiling above her head, fingers still combing through the dark mass of hair._

_«I wish it didn’t have to to be this cathartic moment you know,» Zelda sighs, scraping at the nape of her neck almost absent-mindedly, «like... women get knocked up all the time without even trying and we have to–»_

_«Zelda, dearest.» Lilith shushes her firmly with a glare. For a moment, she gets lost in those green eyes of her, almost completely black now._

_«Yes?» The redhead pants._

_«Do shut up, will you?» She demands, throwing her a playful smirk, and without giving her the time to react or reply, she latches her mouth on one of her weak spots, actions more effective and quicker than any demands._

_«Sorry.» Zelda chirps, the apology helplessly turning into a breathy moan, lids falling close._

_The woman sees stars behind her eyes, completely enthralled amidst Lilith’s kisses and ravishing strokes, her fingers moving deliciously across her skin, kneading and exploring, charming her body with invisible magic. When her hand sneaks between their bodies, it takes Zelda very little effort to move her legs, accommodating Lilith’s body, hips jerking subtly to meet her fingers._

_The dark woman’s pads tease the redhead right where she needs to feel her touch, and she knows she’s grinning against her stomach now, pleased with the whimpers and shudders Zelda has no bother to conceal anymore. And then she tastes her lips again, for Lilith has crawled on top of hers, mouth devouring her own, teeth clashing, tongues mirroring the unkempt movements of her fingers against her core, parting her folds._

_Zelda hums in her mouth when her free hand slithers up to cradle her neck, Lilith’s whole body grinding against her own, the lace bra teasing the sensitive skin of her nipples with each studied movement. Her back arches when her fingers probe at her entrance, the closeness sending thrills up her spine._

_Lilith keeps moving, thrusting against her, reaching new depths, the heel of her hand pressing right where she needs her the most and before she can register what’s happening, she’s close to teetering over the edge. And yet, to her utter disappointment, the consuming sensation is replaced by a dull ache. Lilith is gone._

_She exhales a ragged breath, lifting her head from the pillow, and cracking her eyes open, and watches through hooded eyes Lilith backing away from her. Where once her fingers were there’s nothing, where once her mouth was, now there’s only coldness. Lust taking over her rationality, Zelda swallows thickly, hardly suppressing a lamenting whine, blinking, struggling to get her sight fully functioning._

_«Lilith–» She breathes out, her body squirming in frustration beneath her wife._

_«I know.» Lilith tuts suddenly, with a soft voice, as she slowly peels herself from Zelda, kneeling between her legs. «Patience.» She instructs, reaching out for her own pillow. She glances at Zelda, hinting to lift her hips as she carefully maneuvers it under her, pressed on the small of her back. She whispers a few sweet words to her, asking whether she’s comfortable enough to which the redhead nods._

_Lilith smiles fondly at her before turning her attention to the objects settled on the nightstand._  
_She moves quickly around, gathering everything she needs, chanting all the passages over and over, the voice of their the ob-gyn lecturing her from within her head - tap on the rounded syringe, get close, but not too close, gently, yes, gently - and before either of them can actually dwell on what’s happening, Lilith is pulling out, settling everything aside, a breathy sigh of relief escaping her parted lips: it’s done, she hasn’t hurt Zelda, she’s remembered everything and followed every step with accuracy._

_Careful not to move her around too much, Lilith lowers herself back by the redhead’s side and leans into the kiss Zelda is offering, hungrily tasting her and rejoicing in their little, shared victory, desires for their bright future blooming in each of their hearts. Tongue dancing with hers, the woman let her hand roam on her creamy skin once more, kneading at the pert flesh of her breast, fingers splaying on the taut skin of her stomach, nails greedily clawing at the soft hip and then further down, aptly reaching the bundle of nerves with her digits._

_She draws lazy circles there, and Zelda buckles her hips to meet her touch, still sensible; Lilith gets lost within her moans, the sound echoing in the dark-haired woman’s ears and traveling down her whole body like shivers. She sets a steady pace then, eager to feel her tensed body growing liquid by her hand and when Zelda does tense, clawing almost painfully at her arm, Lilith pressed a kiss on the corner of her mouth, drinking in every sound, every shaggy breath, every silent proof of love._

_Straightening back up, lusty eyes never leaving Zelda’s face, she hooks her hands swiftly under the knees and urges the redhead to go along with her. Lilith guides her legs toward the headboard, until the heels of her feet rest flat on the wall, the top of the headboard providing some leverage._

_«Don’t move.» She croons with a low voice, reaching blindly on the nightstand and retrieving the timer, giving it a turn. «Thirty minutes.» She reminds and places a kiss on the top of Zelda’s knee._

_«Everything alright?» She asks, hardly really concerned._

_«Perfectly.» Zelda replies. «I love you.»_

_«I love you too.»_

_They share a wide smile and Lilith crawls by her side, laying down in sympathy, eyes fixing on the ceiling and fingers intertwined resting on her lap. She tilts her head to the side, nose tickling at the redhead’s jaw, eliciting a soft giggle, green eyes drifting close with a flutter._

_Lilith takes her in silently, worrying on her lip as she watches the disheveled red locks framing her head, the dream smile spreading on her lips. She frowns lightly only when she hears Zelda’s breaths becoming more regular and deep. Lilith nudges softly at her side, releasing a huff when she only gets an indistinct mumble in response, coming from the depth of her chest._

_«Zelda?» Lilith scoffs playfully, even though her wife can’t see nor hear her, and rolls her side, drawing her body close and draping her arms over Zelda’s chest so she doesn’t feel cold._

_This is only their first try, doctors said it might take months or even years, but they are hopeful. Lilith places her head in the crook of her neck and snuggles against the flush of her skin, whispering how much she loves Zelda before drifting into a dreamless slumber herself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	13. Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

AN: Flashback in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 13 - Shelter**

Zelda couldn’t be more thankful for Ambrose’s help, and she would be lying if she would state that she wasn’t even a tiny bit scared at the idea of him leaving the house. She hadn’t accepted Sabrina’s growth yet and even less her going into a college out of town, but on the other hand, she had to face the fact that Greendale wasn’t meant for the girl, if she indeed wanted to follow her history studies with minors interests in religions and occultism - like Lilith.

Ambrose was an entirely different matter: he was thirsty for culture as well, but he was content with his current position, burying himself inside his books, but also helping around the house when needed, which currently involved helping Zelda with the mortuary. She was glad he didn’t inherit any aversion for death, and he didn’t seem to bother even the goriest activities like sewing up the ruined corpses coming from a crash or fixing the face of someone who died of some disease.

She was glad he’d taken the activity as nothing more than what it was: a job. The family business she’d taken over after completing her language studies, the same she took as a job herself, from where the most earnings would come, enough to live a wealthy life for everyone.  Ambrose seemed to understand it and was willing to be her official assistant, especially now that, for as much as she loathed to admit, she found herself more often tired and out of strength for the simplest of tasks.

Work kept her busy, but lately, she would supervise Ambrose while he took over, guiding him around even though he didn’t need any help; on one hand, she was grateful he let her do so, suggesting things, waiting for her to say something before springing into action, but on the other hand, Zelda knew what he was doing and couldn’t help but feeling betrayed by the constant need of her family to treat her like an invalid who needed to be needed or else felt left aside.

Zelda did feel left aside, but not because of the reason they thought.  
Zelda felt left aside because Lilith wasn’t there, and because of that, she didn’t feel like herself and she was constantly searching for something she knew nothing about. And not only life had taken away her love, now she was taking away her work too, the only thing that kept her engaged and distracted, lately. And she couldn’t even complain about it, because the reason for that was the child she was carrying, their child - hers and Lilith’s - the most important thing in her life right now.

She would’ve screamed. She would’ve gone into the woods and just _screamed_.

Propping her elbows on the desk, she buried her face in her hands, letting out a frustrated grunt instead. She should’ve been closing contracts and calling clients for funeral arrangements since the paperwork didn’t exert her too much, but she just couldn’t focus. It wasn’t even late in the afternoon: Ambrose was working downstairs, Sabrina was around downtown with her friends and wouldn’t be home until six, and Hilda was working her shift at Dr. Cerberus and promised to bring back supplies for dinner. She would be basically alone by herself for hours.

And right now she couldn’t stand being alone - it was one of those days.

She startled when the phone rang unexpectedly.

Zelda drew a slow breath, mouthing obscenities for the ridiculously loud thumping of her heart, and cleared her throat, hoping to sound professional.

«Spellman Mortuary, how may I assist you?» She said, her mind trying to guess what the next client would need. Luckily for everyone, busybodies had stopped calling to snoop on her private life.

«Zelda?»

She frowned when she recognized the voice on the other side of the phone: her wife. She was concerned for something, perhaps even worrying at her lip in that very moment: Zelda could almost see her doing just that.

«Mary?» She called, just to make sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her.

«Yes.» The woman confirmed, then heaved a sigh. «I know you’re probably busy right now, but could you come to get Sabrina? I don’t think she’s feeling too well.»

Zelda shook her head in utter dismay, she opened her mouth but realized she didn’t know what to say. Her niece was supposed to be with her friends, what was she doing with Mary? Why were they together? Perhaps Sabrina felt sick in the middle of the streets and Mary happened to be there?

«Wh–» She mumbled, brow knitted. «Where is she right now?»

There was a pause, Mary hummed in the phone, breathing in clear confusion.

«At the cottage, with me.» She replied with a flat voice. «I thought you knew?»

Zelda scoffed softly, rubbing her fingers on her forehead. What was going on, exactly? Why would Sabrina be at Mary’s and why would Mary think she knew about it? Why would everyone keep lying to her and keeping secrets from her? Lies and secrets and more lies and she was going insane.

«I’ll be right there.»

When she parked the hearse in the driveway, Mary was already there, waiting right outside the car door for her to climb down.

«Mary?» The redhead frowned, half surprised, half concerned by the woman’s reaction. Was it really that bad or was that just Mary being Lilith, panicking as always when someone she cared about wasn’t feeling alright?

«Zelda!» She called, heaving a relieved sigh. «You’re here.»

«Sabrina?»

«Inside.» Mary promptly replied, wringing her fingers impatiently. «I would’ve brought here to your house myself but my car broke down,» she said, stammering a little, as she led Zelda toward the cottage, «and I don’t think that motorbike in the shed would be of use and I couldn’t make her walk into the woods like this, so– I’m really sorry, Zelda, did I bother you while you were working?»

«It’s alright Mary, and don’t worry about my work: I couldn’t concentrate anyway.» The redhead replied, smiling at her frantic flow of words; she gave Mary a reassuring nod, despite the growing concern for Sabrina. «May I come in?» She asked politely, stopping right in front of the door like any stranger or friend would do before entering another’s house. The fact that she’d been in that cottage for months, spent nights there and days and weekends, and had left plenty of her belongings there, didn’t matter now.

«Please do.» Mary urged, pushing the door open and entering first.

Zelda tried not to dwell on the fact she was there, she was about to step into the living room that had been the theatre of many delightful evenings together, the familiar smell bringing memories and tears to her eyes right away.

She sniffled, trying to conceal her emotion with a small cough, and averted her eyes, settled almost immediately on the couch by the fire: Sabrina was laying there, head propped on a cushion, eyes shut and a perpetual grimace on her face, she was paler than usual and was clutching at her stomach.

«Sabrina?» She called, perching on the small space her niece had left on the sofa, and tentatively combed her fingers through her head. «Darling, are you awake?» She said in a soothing voice, releasing a sigh when she noticed her temperature wasn’t really high.

Sabrina let out a lamenting grunt, cracking her eyes open.

«Auntie Zee?» She slurred, curling on herself.

Zelda looked up at Mary, who was standing there, chewing on her lips, squirming, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, blue eyes fixed on the girl.

«She’s been sick twice already, maybe you shouldn’t get too close.» She informed the woman in a small voice.

Zelda took a small breath, biting softly at the inside of her cheek. She wasn’t feverish and she’d thrown up, and she was lamenting a tummy ache. Now that she thought about it, she recalled Hilda complaining about ending up with less cookie dough than expected. Maybe her sister hadn’t messed up the dosage - it hardly ever happened - and the culprit was Sabrina, having feasted on it before anyone caught her.

Zelda narrowed her eyes and gave a scolding grimace at her niece though the girl couldn’t really see her doing it.

«Sabrina is hardly ever sick,» she explained with the voice of someone who already knew the answer, «she probably ate something she shouldn’t have. Am I right?»

The girl cracked her eyes open again and gave a tentative shrug.

«Maybe?» She admitted with a dramatic pout with the sole intent of preventing Zelda to get too crossed at her.

The woman shook her head. And that was the very sensible, mature, and liable girl she was supposed to send off to college by herself next year?

«Can you move?» She asked, voice too similar to a coo, and the woman felt her cheek grow hotter when she felt Mary’s eyes loitering on her, her mouth bent in an indecipherable smirk.

«Not without throwing up, I can’t.» Slurred Sabrina. «Five more minutes.»

Zelda sighed, cupping her face, testing her temperature again. She didn’t want to force her niece to move and walk when she didn’t feel like it, but she also didn’t want to put Mary in any embarrassing situation when the woman looked already tense and generally uncomfortable.

«Darling, we can’t bother Mary any further–»

«You can stay as long as you need-  _ want _ .» The dark-haired woman interjected, smiling reassuringly. «I’ll make some tea.»

«Thank you, Mary.» She nodded gratefully and heaved a sigh. If she had to be honest, she felt tired herself and she didn’t really want to leave just yet.

Eager to check on her niece, though, Zelda lowered her eyes and saw Sabrina slowly disclose one eye, following the brunette as she walked away and into the kitchen. When she realized her aunt was watching, she quickly shut her eyes and pressed her lips together.

But it was too late.

Zelda gasped silently, jaw hanging dramatically in disbelief.

«Hey, I saw you smarty-pants!» She whispered, playfully swatting her hip. «Are you even sick at all?» She asked, tickling lightly her side.

Sabrina let out a giggle, curling on herself even more, clutching tightly at herself, protectively.

«Auntie, please stop- my stomach does hurt.» She protested, grin melting into a discomfort grimace and vice versa. When Zelda halted her assault and looked down at her with a demanding glance, the girl sighed and rolled her eyes in guilt. «I threw up a bit and  _ Lilith  _ panicked so I just seized the opportunity.»

Zelda felt a tug at her heart upon hearing that name, but she did her best to conceal her emotion and swallowed down the small lump in her throat.

«Seized the opportunity to do what, exactly?» She asked, tilting her head to the side, struggling to maintain a stern expression. «To have  _ Mary  _ fuss around you, make us both worried, or make me come here into the lion’s den?»

Sabrina looked up at her apologetically.

«Dunno for sure.» She chirped. «Sorry.» She mumbled sheepishly.

Zelda let out a heavy sigh, a smile inevitably creeping on her lips.

«You are a good actress, no wonder you want to audition for the Christmas recital.» She commented, faking some annoyance. Shaking her head sympathetically, then, she rubbed her arm, leaning slightly forward to be closer to her. «But, what are you really doing here, darling?»

The girl shrugged, averting her eyes.

«I needed some extra homework to improve my essays.»

Zelda threw her an unimpressed look. Did she really think she was so easy to fool now? She might’ve been more fragile than usual and easily distracted, but she still could detect a lie, especially when it came from Sabrina.

«Darling, you’re the top of your class.» She pointed out with a knowing look, lowering her voice in a conspiratorial manner.

«I missed her.» The girl finally admitted. «I missed having you both tending to me.»

That almost made her crumble down.

«Oh, Sabrina–»

It was painful enough to know her family was incomplete, but hearing her niece suffering was another thing: she was still a kid and she needed both of her parents around. Zelda knew she’d been absent lately, that she hadn’t been enough, but she was determined to change that: her family deserved more.

«I’m sorry Auntie, I really am. Please don’t ground me.» Sabrina pleaded, with wide, bleary eyes. «Can I please still come from time to time?»

Zelda let out a peal of laughter, thumb running across her cheekbone.

«Of course, you can.» She conceded with a soft voice, which she harshed slightly soon after. «But please don’t fail your class on purpose and next time, I’ll be glad you’d inform me about where you are.»

Sabrina nodded with intent, silently promising to abide by the terms of the pact.

«I’m really sorry, Auntie Zee.»

«It’s alright,» she shushed, wrapping her into a tight hug when Sabrina lifted herself up and tipped toward her, sure Zelda would promptly catch her, «now the three of us will take tea and then we go back home.»

Sabrina nuzzled her head in the crook of her neck, smiling at the smell of the familiar perfume that lingered on Zelda’s skin and clothes. She hummed in delight when she felt her aunt’s fingers cradling her head, her nails scraping at her scalp soothingly.

«I wish we could go back home together. The three of us, I mean.» She mumbled.

Zelda held her even tighter.

«Give it some time, Sabrina.» She whispered, breathing through her hair, then smirked, pecking a kiss on the crown of her head, feigning an appalled tone. «But I beg of you, though, when the time comes, don’t teach the child to eat raw cookie dough, it’s really unhealthy.»

Sabrina chuckled against her neck as she snuggled even closer.

«I don’t think I will either anymore.» She replied through a disgusted grimace.

«At least this experience has taught you something.» Zelda laughed with her, fighting back the tears pricking at the corner of her eyes and she finally felt at ease when she saw Mary walking into the living room with a tray filled with goods and three cups of steaming tea, her face relaxed, smiling at them, almost fondly.

If that was what Sabrina missed, Zelda missed it too, dearly. And maybe, just maybe, she was glad her niece had put out that little performance just for them.

_ She’s close to tears but angrily wipes at her eyes before her watering eyes can effectively produce any. Zelda is driving, speeding down the roads - maybe unnecessarily - and she really doesn’t need to crash into something in the middle of nowhere and in the dead of the night because she can’t see properly. _

_ It’s the first time they got to this level and she’s shaking with fear and anger, but at least she knows Sabrina is safe. When Lilith called the mortuary to reassure her about her niece’s current location, Zelda thought she would’ve died, her heart beating so fast she had trouble breathing and felt as if her body was being devoured from the inside by some toothed worm, biting guilt and dread into her flesh. _

_ She doesn’t bother locking her car when she stops in the driveway, yellow light coming soothingly from inside the cottage, which seems to glow like a lantern in the dark woods. The pebbles creak under her shoes as she rushes to the front door, knocking insistently on the wood, unbothered to cause bruises on her knuckles. _

_ Soon enough, she makes out Lilith’s shape coming toward, unlocking the door from the inside and letting her in. _

_ «How is she?» Zelda asks immediately, eyes darting around the small hallway in search of Sabrina. _

_ Lilith steps aside, grabbing her arm when the redhead throws herself inside, almost tripping over the carpet. _

_ «She’s fine.» The woman reassures. «She fell asleep on the couch.» _

_ Zelda heaves a relief sigh when she indeed spots the yellow head poking out a tartan blanket firmly secured around her body. She feels herself pout, her bottom lip trembling and she hurries to cover the deprecable expression with her hands. _

_ «Oh- thank you.» She mumbles through a ragged breath. «Thank you, Lilith.» She adds then, sincerely grateful that it has been her the one who got her niece and took care of her. Zelda couldn’t even imagine if something bad happened to her, what if some ill-intentioned man had decided to snatch her? What if she tripped in the forest and hit her head? What if she had to spend the night alone, in the forest, shivering, scared… would she even survive it? _

_ «Hey, you’re shaking.» Lilith whispers, a clear tingle of concern in her voice. «She really is fine, you know.» She soothes again, rubbing her hand up her arms, trying to induce some warmth, although she’s not really sure Zelda is shivering due to being cold. «Here, I’ll pour you some tea, I’ve just made it.» She almost croons, grabbing her by the wrist and tugging her toward the kitchen. _

_ As she walks through the living room, Zelda lets her gaze dwell on the sleepy girl lying on the sofa, all curled up and cozy under her blanket, fire glowing warm flames on her skin.  She’s fine, she’s safe . _

_ When she plops down on the chair, planting her elbows on the table to prop her chin in her hands, she realizes she’s never been inside her house before: maybe just the living room where Sabrina is sleeping now, sharing a drink on that very sofa while staring at the crackling fire; but never in the kitchen, never in any other rooms. She shakes her head dismissively, sighing when she acknowledges the sudden tiredness descending upon her like a cloak. Her nerves are totally wrecked and she only wants to go home with Sabrina and sleep in her bed until morning, pretending it had just been an awful nightmare. And yet, at the same time, she really feels comfortable being in Lilith’s kitchen, watching her dance around, lifting on her toes to retrieve mugs from the cabinet, sugar from a jar and milk from the fridge, assembling quite a nice tray just for them. _

_ «We’re dating for three months and my niece already rushes to your cottage when we have an argument.» Zelda mumbles, her finger tracing lazily the grain of the wood on the table. _

_ Lilith is still giving her back when she shrugs, but the redhead can see she’s smirking when she tilts slightly her head over her shoulder. _

_ «What can I say?» She brags with a dramatic sigh, attempting a graceful swirl, and puts the tray down. «I’m the cool aunt.» _

_ Zelda snaps her head up, unwillingly clenching her jaw. She’s never considered herself as Sabrina’s aunt, because they were just more to one another, but on the other hand, the woman can’t argue with the fact that Sabrina is, legally, her niece. The fact that Lilith has chosen that particular title for herself, even mindlessly, has sent a tug to her heart. A tug, however, Zelda couldn’t identify: was she jealous, displeased by her presumption, or was she intrigued by the implication, wishing that was true, in a way?  
Three months. They have been dating for three months and it’s simply too early to get ahead of herself, even though she’s never fallen that hard and fast for anyone before. Lilith is constantly on her mind, for goodness’ sake - but that, again, is another story, and not for tonight anyway. _

_ «Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep,» The other woman murmurs apologetically, gnawing at her lip, while settling the steaming mug in front of her, «it slipped.» _

_ Zelda shakes her head, hating that her silence could’ve been misunderstood. She nestles the mug in her hands, quite enjoying the scorching hotness of the china against her palms. _

_ «Don’t apologise. You  _ are  _ the cool aunt to Sabrina.» Zelda admits with a bittersweet smile. «I get to be the strict parent, Hilda is the hugger, you… you’re different. She looks up to you and I’m glad.» She murmurs, taking a sip, letting the sweet, brown liquid work like a balm on the walls of her sore throat - she’s been yelling Sabrina’s name into the woods around the Spellman house for ages, on the verge of tears for the whole time. _

_ «I’m honored to have such an impact on her.» Lilith mumbles through a somewhat embarrassed smirk, blue eyes fixed on her own mug. «She did ask me to tell her all about witches and myths in Greendale.» _

_ «You didn’t tell her, did you?» Zelda wonders, wide-eyed. _

_ «Yes?» Lilith throws her a guilty expression. «Did I do something wrong?» She asks through a grimace. _

_ «It’s fine.» Zelda lies, taking a long sip of tea. _

_ Even though she acts all tough and brave, Sabrina is a very impressionable kid and she would most certainly spend the next few nights knocking on the door of her bedroom, at night, lamenting nightmares and demanding to sleep with her; and Sabrina isn’t the perfect sleep companion: always tossing around and kicking and stealing all the covers. _

_ «She was upset, I wanted to distract her.» Lilith justifies with a small voice. _

_ Zelda pauses for a moment. Perhaps Sabrina needed a comforting story and Lilith has provided her with just what she needed; perhaps Zelda is just sorry she hasn’t been the to give it to her. It is selfish to think solely about her own anger and sense of betrayal because Sabrina had to be scared too and so very upset to run off into the woods like that, at sunset, when she knows she’s not allowed to venture outside. _

_ «I’m sorry, Lilith.» Zelda puts down the empty mug. «I got scared, she’s never run away from home before, but I’m glad she chose you.» _

_ «It’s alright.» The other woman soothes, reaching out for her hand and squeezing her fingers reassuringly. _

_ For the longest of moments, Zelda observes their intertwined fingers dancing around, mesmerized, the red nail polish creating an enthralling contrast with hers, which was black as always, and then Lilith is tracing the lines on her palm with her nail, thumb rubbing at the back of her hand, sending shivers down her spine. _

_ They gaze at each other, and the time seems to stop. Zelda can only hear the chair being dragged on the floor, the tiles squeaking under the woman’s weight when she slowly walks up to her, and then there’s only her breathing in her ears and the thumping of her own heart. That poor, wrecked muscle of hers has followed all ranges of emotions in a few hours: anger, dread, sorrow, confusion, and now love,  lust . _

_ Zelda tilts her head when she feels Lilith’s slender fingers wrapping around her neck, right under the chin to urge the redhead to look up and she compels, kissing her when she feels the softness of her lips against her mouth. _

_ The redhead tastes like tea and cigarettes and something else that is entirely her own. She hums against her, combing through her hair, hoping to provide some comfort after the horrible night she had to face. She wishes she can ask her to stay, but she can’t. _

_ When they part, Lilith still gazes down at Zelda, who is grinning, upside down. _

_ They both shut their eyes and heave a breath when they hear Sabrina’s small voice calling for her auntie, sounding scared and even smaller than she is. _

_ Without saying anything, Zelda stands up and strides to the living room, kneeling down on the carpet to get to Sabrina’s eyes level. She combs a hand through yellow hair, gently coaxing her to fully rouse and when the kid does wake up, Zelda can immediately detect the evidence of her crying, because, despite her nap, her eyes are still puffy and red. _

_ Sabrina looks up at her drowsily, burying her face deeper into the blanket. _

_ «Are you mad at me?» She slurs, eyes watery. _

_ Zelda can see her breath hitching and she can well imagine her bottom lip trembling dramatically. She tilts her head to the side and nods slowly. _

_ «I am, a bit.» She admits sincerely. «You scared me to death.» _

_ «Sorry.» Sabrina mumbles apologetically. «Won’t do that ever again.» _

_ «Pinky promise?» Zelda offers, tickling the girl’s nose with her small finger. _

_ «Pinky promise.» She replies, snaking her own hand up the blanket and hooking her small finger with her aunt’s. They both share a smile. _

_ «Let’s go home, shall we?» The redhead offers, standing on her feet and waiting for the girl to do the same. _

_ To her surprise, however, Sabrina lifts herself up and stands on the sofa in her socks. Before Zelda can scold her - it’s not exactly polite to stand on other people’s furniture like that - Sabrina has thrown her arms around her neck, her small body slumping against hers. _

_ «Up?» She begs. _

_ Zelda sighs. _

_ «Just this once.» She concedes, locking her hands under her thighs when Sabrina wraps her legs around her aunt’s waist. _

_ Zelda barely notices the other woman at her side, arms outstretched as if she’s expecting either of them to fall. _

_ «You got her?» The dark-haired woman asks, mildly concerned about the situation: Zelda never struck her to be the weight-lifting type of person and Sabrina is almost ten. Surprisingly enough, though, they seem to be just fine, a normal thing to which they’re both accustomed to, maybe even a little night routine of theirs Lilith has the privilege to witness. The thought melts her heart a little with the unexpected yearning to be, somehow, part of it, someday soon. _

_ «I've got her.» She assures with a soothing voice, smiling at Lilith as she beds by the sofa to retrieve Sabrina’s sneakers. _

_ Her niece has always been petite, hence relatively light, even easier to carry when she decides to wrap around her torso and hold on tight like a koala bear, just like she’s doing now. Zelda silently wonders if this is the last time she’ll have the opportunity to carry Sabrina around this way before she gets too tall or too heavy for her. After all, does anyone really know the last time in which a mother - actual or made - carries her own child in her arms? _

_ She swallows thickly and walks down the driveway to the hearse, where she eases a sleepy Sabrina into the passenger’s seat.  _

_ «Thank you for taking care of her, Lilith.» She says with a small voice, worrying on her lip. The woman shrugs dismissively, closing distance with her and stealing a kiss from Zelda. «Lilith!» She protests with a light giggle, gesturing at the kid with the dangling head parked right there, a few inches from them. _

_ «Oh, but she’s sleeping.» Lilith points out with a grin, white teeth flashing at the moonlight. She doesn’t really know why the redhead gets so shy around her nephews when it comes down to showing affection for her, but she respects her will nonetheless, since she has no problem with kissing and holding when no one of her family is indeed watching and being asleep does count as not watching, right? Lilith cocks an eyebrow suggestively and waits. Zelda seems convinced, finally, and hesitantly leans in for another kiss. _

_ They’re both unaware Sabrina is peeking at them by the side-view mirror, her eyes just slightly cracked open, hardly suppressing a triumphant smirk. Ambrose owes her 5 bucks: she’s seen them smooching first. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	14. I will carry you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning** : alcoholism/blood (possible self-harm).  
> I’m extremely lucky since I’ve never dealt with any of this. If you’re triggered by any of those things, proceed with caution; if you've been through it and you realize that I’ve treated the thematics poorly, then **I am sorry**. In my defense, I simply wanted to add some more ~~unnecessary~~ drama to the story (because it wasn't enough already).

_I know you can’t remember how to shine,_

_your heart’s a bird without the wings to fly._

_Is anybody out there, can you take this weight of mine?_

_Is anybody out there, can you lead me to the light?_

_You are not alone._

_I’ve been here the whole time singing you a song._

_I will carry you. I will carry you._

[I will carry you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Ek9n7B14w8), by Ruelle.

AN: Flashback in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 14 - I will carry you**

_When she pulls over at the cottage, Lilith realizes she hasn’t been there in months. She’d promised herself that, after the wedding, she would visit regularly to do some chores and work on her bike - Zelda forbid her to take it to the mortuary fearing one of the kids would get hurt - but then once in a few days became once a week, then, after one of the last work trip, every two and then she stopped going altogether. And why would she even feel the need to be there when she has such a great family in the other house,_ her _house? But now it’s really been too long and she also wants to retrieve something she forgot somewhere in the attic._

_Lilith frowns when she notices that the door is already unlocked and enters cautiously, right hand already searching for her phone, ready to call the sheriff in case someone has broken in._

_She barely suppresses a chuckle when she notices that the intruder is no one else than her wife, copper hair disheveled poking from behind the armchair as she lays wantonly on the carpet._

_Lilith shakes her head, sighing and grinning, taking the sight in._

_It’s been a few weeks that Hilda has restricted the alcohol supplies in the house. Zelda often enjoys a glass of liquor to drink before bed and it’s not like she’s addicted to it, so Lilith is not exactly worried; Hilda, on the other hand, had seemed to have taken the matter seriously and snatched away all the bottles. Surprisingly enough, though, Zelda hadn’t protested, almost as if she’d agreed to the deprivation. It had been a mystery._

_Lilith hadn’t complained, thinking it would only do her good if she would stop drinking altogether, but she knew, she is aware that her wife can’t survive long. Hence, she can only chuckle fondly at her when she realizes Zelda must’ve helped herself to her cabinet in the living room, the abstinence playing tricks on her and annihilate her inhibitions, making her chug the majority of bourbon._

_«Having fun without me?» Lilith chuckles again, dropping her bag on the armchair and sitting next to her wife, snatching the almost empty bottle from her hand and eliciting a low whine from Zelda. The dark-haired woman brings the rim of the bottle to her lips and finishes the remnants of the liquor, winching at the pricking ache it burns in her throat and in her stomach. «Ginger?» She calls, playfully swatting her thigh._

_«What?» Zelda almost barks, tossing her head around and finally looking at her with bleary eyes._

_Lilith throws her a fond smile, scooting closer to her, gently grabbing her arms to see if she can coax her to at least sit up._

_«What are you doing?» She asks with a sweet voice. The woman doesn’t really know whether she’s asking what is she doing_ drinking _when she has silently agreed with her sister to not doing that, or what is she doing_ in the cottage _, or even what is she doing_ in general _, drinking alone in the cottage, splayed on the carpet with all the inventions of getting drunk on purpose._

_Even the brunette knows she should be mad at her, of course, she should, but Lilith can’t help find the situation utterly amusing, for Zelda has the cutest drunken expression: cheeks flushed, red nose, quivering bottom lip, unsure whether she wants to laugh hysterically or cry in despair._

_Her first instinct would be to scoot her in her lap and hold her and nuzzle her just to hear her whine in protest, and then drag - or carry - her to the closest bed to let her sleep it off. She would stroke her hair and probably promise not to tell Hilda after the pitiful, drowsy begging._

_When Zelda says nothing still, the dark-haired woman is already hooking her arms under her knees, but before she can slide her other arm under her neck to hoist her into a semi-sitting position, Zelda lets out a bitter wail. Lilith halts immediately, fearing she might’ve hurt her in some way, but then the redhead slumps back down, tossing herself around, huffing in frustration when she realizes she can’t actually move efficiently. And when she does realize that, she barks out a peal of laughter that has Lilith frowning deeply._

_«I wish-» She slurs, her tongue poking at her mouth as she struggles to moisten her chapped lips. «I wish this… this numbness- could last forever.» She mumbles, blinking slowly, green eyes unable to focus._

_Lilith narrows her eyes, throwing her a disapproving, yet affectionate grimace. Her wife is extremely adorable when drunk._

_«Nothing lasts forever, Zelda.» She points out with a reasonable voice, cupping her face with her hand to steady her head, preventing the redhead to toss it around to no avail, thumb stroking at her lips._

_Upon feeling the soft touch, Zelda seems to focus, even if not completely, and shoots her eyes open, mouth ajar into a small gasp of surprise, her expression contorted as if she’s just had a lifetime revelation._

_«Will you be my Nothing?» She pouts, eyes watery as she begged._

_Lilith hardly suppresses a chuckle._

_«Come on, I’ll get you home.» She offers, getting ready again to scoop her up, but Zelda swats away her hands as soon as she hitches close._

_«No.» She protests with a grunt, shutting her eyes closed, her bottom lip trembling an awful lot. «Why wouldn’t you marry me?»_

_«Zelda, we’re married already.» She says with a steady, low voice, making sure to stress every word._

_Zelda cracks open one eye and tries to stare at her - one of the multiple faces she’s surely seeing floating before her right now._

_«Oh.»_

_«You’re absolutely wasted.» Lilith states, finally recognizing the gravity of it all: her wife is not in a coma, but she’s past being simply drunk. It’s not the first time she’s seen a tipsy Zelda after one too many glasses of wine at a party or after a particularly stressful day, but this is different: Zelda has always been the happy type of drunk, never got the blues._

_Now… there’s something different lingering behind those bleary eyes of hers. Lilith’s amused smile has died, replaced with mild concern._

_«I don’t want to go home.» Zelda declared firmly, her voice almost normal all of the sudden, similar to the commanding tone she uses when she grounds Sabrina._

_The other woman sighs, but this time she’s determined to pull her up, so she tries, ignoring all the fuss and the protests and collecting all the faint slaps and swats her wife gives on her hands and arms. When the redhead is successfully pulled up, she guides her into leaning against the couch and sits kneels beside her, a hand splayed on her lap to keep her body steady._

_«Why don’t you want to go home?» Lilith asked calmly, cupping her face again, coaxing Zelda to look at her._

_«It was me.» She whines. «They were having... problems and I… I told them to take a vacation, just the two of them.»_

_«Who?» Lilith frowns, not really getting the point of those sentences, nor the people she’s talking about._

_«And then the plane crashed... and they died–» Zelda hiccups, «thirteen years ago, tomorrow.» She sniffles then blinks and gazes into Lilith’s apologetic eyes. «Is it my fault they died?» She asks, big tears escaping her lashes before the other woman can even think of replying. «I was cold to Diana. Angry at her because she was making Edward miserable and- and instead of working things out together I suggested they should’ve… they should’ve taken a vacation and–»_

_«Oh, Zelda...» Lilith shushes her, thumb running across her lips, hushing her gently. Maybe that’s why Hilda has decided to hide all the liquor and Zelda has agreed to it without complaining: they know things can get bad around this time of the year. And it pains her that Zelda got to the level where she couldn’t bear the guilt anymore and instead of talking to her wife, she took refuge in alcohol._

_«He was my baby brother, you know?»_

_«I know.» Lilith scoots closer, presses a kiss to her temple and her heart eases when she finally feels Zelda relax against her chest, seeking comfort and warmth. Combing her hand through her soft hair, she remembers Hilda telling her about Edward: he was the youngest of the three, bright and protective over the sisters who had practically raised him; with Zelda being the eldest, almost ten years apart, she’d been charged with him from the beginning and he quickly became her raison d’etre. When he died, so suddenly, Zelda had been devastated, and the only thing that kept her sane was the little girl; she’d promised her father she would take care of Sabrina while he was away - unknowingly, she’d made a lifetime promise. No wonder they are so close._

_«Can we stay here, please?» Zelda mumbles, hot breath smelling of liquor fanning against her neck. «Just for tonight?»_

_Lilith should recoil, but she only finds herself drawing closer, pulling the redhead in her lap, rubbing her back in circles._

_«For as long as you need to.» She assures, silently promising to take care of her for as long as she needs it. Lilith makes a mental note to call Hilda and sighs loudly, studying the situation: the redhead is already half-asleep on top of her and she has to decide the best way to carry her to bed. But first, she needs to call Hilda and warn her they would be staying at the cottage for a while._

_When she arrived there, Lilith had thought she would be working on her old house, fixing furniture, polishing her bike, doing chores, but now she’s more than happy to fix something else, cherish her affection number one, and look after the most important thing she owns. Because even if she doesn’t like to think she actually owns Zelda, it’s her responsibility, and taking care of her it’s her life’s work._

«VT, stop chasing squirrels!» Zelda playfully scolded, almost tripping on a protruding root, eyes searching for the dog while balancing Hilda’s cake between her arms. She muttered something under her breath and sighed. «You’re too short!» She pointed out, matter-of-factly. Apparently convinced, the dog finally trotted back to her side, sneezing loudly to remove some dirt off his snout.

Zelda shook her head, helplessly thinking that dog was her wife in animal form: always getting into trouble, curious, eager, full of energies. Was it a good idea bringing him too? Worrying down at her lip when she finally saw the cottage at the end of the path, Zelda realized that bringing her a cake, Hilda’s cake to be exact, around tea time too, there were high chances Mary would invite her in. It was scary, and exciting altogether.

She could vividly remember the first time Lilith had invited her into the cottage, the afternoon tea going cold in their hands because they just couldn’t stop talking about literature and philosophy and all the places they’d seen and the ones they still wished to see before growing too old to travel with a backpack and nothing more - they eventually left for some of those adventures, but most of the trips still remained just dreams. Perhaps, once everything would be normal again, they would leave together for another adventure - something safe for a child, that was - because things just _had_ to go back to normal, eventually.

She took a deep breath and held it as she walked closer to the cottage, silently scolding Vinegar Tom for running ahead of her, barking and wagging happily; perhaps she should’ve brought a leash: what if she didn’t remember liking animals? What if Mary was afraid of dogs?

But then a loud clash startled her, pulling her out of her thoughts. _What was that noise?_ It had sounded like something breaking, glass, perhaps, something big and heavy. A pot? A window? And then the dog started to bark more, with urge, and it wasn’t one of his happy whines anymore.

Picking up the peace, Zelda reached the driveway and she couldn’t decide whether to be happy to find it empty: either Mary was out and far from any danger, or the car was still to the mechanic and Mary was inside, very much close to the possible peril. What if she had robbers in the house? Zelda couldn’t hear voices, and the noise had stopped, now, which was unlikely since robbers would make a mess seeking for anything of value; then, what could it be? The absence of further noises excluded also raccoons from the list, because they were pretty loud animals and she would swear her wife - Mary or Lilith didn’t matter - would yell at the poor beast to leave, maybe even chasing it with a broom.

Every option Zelda had in mind involved noises, and yet something inside her kept told her something _was_ wrong, she could feel it in her guts. What if she’d hurt herself? Her wife had that nasty habit of climbing on furniture to get on higher shelves, after all. What if she’d hit her head and fainted? What if she’d messed up her memories even more by accident?

Suddenly feeling panic rising like bile in her esophagus, she reached the door and tested if it was open. It was, and the fact sent a chill down her spine - what if Mary had really been robbed and she was currently in danger? Was Zelda putting herself in danger as well? But who cared, when her wife was possibly hurt?

«Mary?» She called hesitantly, cracking the door open.

Vinegar Tom stood by her side, almost as if he could sense something was wrong as well, but then ventured before her, sniffling curiously around: he could clearly smell the familiar scent of Lilith, but he had never actually been inside the cottage, so he pawed around tentatively, following an invisible track.

Zelda swallowed the lump in her throat when she realized the living room was intact, the fire died out, reduced only to embers. She put the cake down on the coffee table and peeked around curiously, making sure to make noise and unmask her presence. When she called again, she anxiously scraped her lip with her teeth.

And then Vinegar Tom barked, and he caught her attention, standing in the corridor, right outside the bathroom door and he was wagging his little tail and fidgeting and jumping on the spot, excited, but also hesitant to go inside.

«What is it?» Zelda asked, almost running to him. And she saw her: Mary curled up in a corner, behind the tub, shards of glass scattered everywhere on the floor.

Zelda blinked in dismay, her heart sinking in the pit of her stomach. She carefully moved under the door frame and patted the dog on the head when he lifted on his hinds leg, telling him to stay.

«Wait here, VT, good boy.» She cooed, trying to reassure him, then slid inside and closed the door on him. He started to scratch at the wood, whining sadly, but she ignored him diligently and focused all her attention on the sight before her.

Zelda wasn’t really sure to comprehend what had really happened there: Mary was still lying in a corner, arms wrapping tightly on her knees and head bowed down, making herself as tiny as possible, not even aware somebody had entered her house - not even aware that somebody was in her bathroom, a few feets away from her. Was she _crying_? Zelda didn’t know. The silence was deafening after Vinegar Tom had stopped scratching and whining, probably squatting outside the door now, waiting.

The woman swallowed thickly, then carefully approached Mary - from the right, since the small cabinet on the left had fallen down, obstructing the quickest path.

Immediately, the glass crunched beneath her shoes, making her wince, her heart thumping anxiously in her chest.

She kept going.

Glancing over the sink, where the mirror should’ve been, there was an empty frame, with only a few shards still hanging there, with multiple cracks scattered everywhere, breaking her reflection. Narrowing her eyes, then, she saw it, _the blood_ , only speckles on the polished surface, but they were _there_ , and also on the white sink and further down, larger, darker, on the tiles.

When she finally got to her, Zelda knelt down, careful to kick away all the sharp pieces with her shoes to avoid some unwanted cuts.

«Mary?» She called tentatively, her voice soft, even if it fell deaf to the other woman’s ears.

Zelda was afraid to touch her, the last thing she wished was to startle her, but eventually, she had to, because the woman was shivering, desperately clutching onto herself, stubbornly silent. What caused such a burst? Perhaps her brain had started to remember something and now she was having a crisis? She’d read somewhere it could happen: the utter feeling of being lost working as a trigger in the patient’s mind. If Mary remembered something then, _could she dare_...?

«Lilith?» She murmured, the tip of her fingers ghosting over her shoulder.

It was like touching a bomb: the woman jolted, gasping as if she’d been underwater for too long, and uncurling herself - legs kicking and arms flaring, clawing blindly around - her head jerked upward, her blue eyes snapping open, rimmed in red and darting everywhere without really seeing, and her gaze was so hollow, Zelda flinched back in fear.

«Mary!» The redhead hurried, hands forward in yielding position, showing she meant no harm.

The other woman tossed her head to the side, nose almost crushed on the tiles, her eyes shut once again, and she shriveled against the wall, shuddering, acting like she was expecting a monster or a terrible beast to assault her.

It broke Zelda’s heart and she tried again, firmer this time, grabbing her upper arm, tugging lightly despite Mary’s writhings. She wanted to help, she _had_ to help.

«It’s me- _it’s me._ » She said, hiccups tripping over breaths. «You’re alright.» She soothed, even though she wasn’t sure Mary actually _was_ fine, and she shushed her as she would do with a child having a nightmare.

And then Mary cracked her eyes open, her ragged breath coming shallower while she turned to Zelda to look at her, finally seeing her.

«Ze–» She hiccuped, collecting arms to her chest, «Zelda?» 

«Yes.»The redhead barely nodded, her lips bending into a relieved smile when Mary let her get close.

«Careful.» The woman warned, glancing around, winching embarrassed at the mess around her bathroom. «There are glasses everywhere.»

«I can see that.» Zelda attempted to chuckle, but she had barely enough time to assume that the mess was simply an incident and Mary had scared herself, somehow, that Zelda’s heart had sunk deeper within her: there was a darker stain on her blouse that got her terribly worried.

Mary’s gaze was once again lost somewhere.  
Her eyes were wandering around the bathroom, unfocused - and not because of the lack of her glasses - and she blinked toward the bright light coming from the window, lips parted, as if she had words teetering to come out from her mouth, but dying prematurely in her throat.

Zelda looked at her insistently, hoping she would get an explanation, but when she received none, she dropped her gaze, hoping, instead, to have seen wrong - she didn’t. The blood she’d seen came from Mary and her sleeve was getting soaked with it.

«Mary, you’re- you’re bleeding.» She managed to croak out. She reached for her right hand tentatively, releasing the breath she didn’t know she was holding when the woman drew her attention to the redhead, glancing down at herself, and the slender fingers wrapped around her hand, tugging. 

Zelda chewed on the inside of her cheek when she saw the small cuts on her severed skin, some places deeper than others, but most damages was around the knuckles, where some crimson bruises were just blooming there, as if… as if Mary had _punched_ the mirror above the sink.

She looked around and snatched the towel hanging on the bar above their heads and lightly squeezed her hold tighter, reassuring Mary the whole time, hoping her muscles would relax. When eventually the woman gave in, letting Zelda take control entirely, the redhead immediately noticed the deeper cut on the wrist, poking under the sleeve; it was uneven and jagged, crossing diagonally the taut flesh, and it seemed alive, for the rivulet of blood streaming down her soiled skin, pooling at her elbow, further soaking the fabric.

Searching for something - anything - on her face and still finding no hints, Zelda couldn’t really tell if that was intentional or accidental. She hoped to be the latter, even though she kept the possibility stored in the back of her mind, for as painful it might be. _What did you do?_ The words remained unspoken. _What happened?_ She swallowed that question too, springing into action, and after checking there weren’t any chips left, she wrapped the injured hand in the towel. When Mary hissed, Zelda ignored her complaints and pressed down.

«How- how come are you here?» The brunette finally asked, her voice broken and shallow.

Zelda attempted a smile, in anything to give an illusion of comfort.

«I brought you a cake.» She said sincerely, gesturing toward the other room with a slight tilt of her head. «And I wanted to check on you.» She shrugged, worrying on her lip. She was glad she did. Tentatively unpeeling the towel from her arm, she let out a relieved sigh when she noticed that the stream of blood was ebbing.

«I’m sorry.» Mary murmured apologetically, wincing when Zelda dabbed at the cut now that only the red trailed remained.

«It’s alright.» The redhead replied dismissively, trying her best not to make a big deal out of it. She had to be practical, just for the moment: there would be time to ask questions of all kinds, now she needed to tend to the physical damage.

«No, it’s not alright.» Mary insisted, shaking her head. «It’s not alright _at all_. And you shouldn’t have seen- _this_.» She croaked out, her breath hitching desperately.

And before she knew what she was doing, she was cupping Mary’s face and Mary didn’t flinch. She didn’t lean in, but she didn’t jerk away either; she stood there as if Zelda's fingers were grounding her, steadying her, knitting the invisible threads that kept her thoughts together.

«What happened to you?» The redhead whispered, her eyes watery and desperate to receive an answer.

Mary looked trapped, and yet, she wasn’t being forced to speak, but she was just being helped to voice what she wanted to say from the beginning. She swallowed thickly and locked her gaze into Zelda’s green eyes.

«I am–» She started, the words coming heavily from her lips. «I am just so… _angry_ , all the time.» She admitted, letting out a wet sob.

Zelda looked at her. She imagined she could be lost, or lonely, or feeling sad. But angry? Why would someone meek and composed like Mary be angry, and not just angry, but clearly _furious_ since she’d trashed the place?

«Why, Mary?» She brought herself to croak out.

«Because!» The woman rebuked, on the verge of tears. «Because you’re wonderful and your family is wonderful and you all love each other so very much and I want to be part of it, but I-» She averted her eyes, tears falling into her lap. «I just- cannot remember. I can’t... I tried, and _I can’t_.»

She barely contained her own tears upon hearing her wife being so broken and helpless. And it broke her in return not being able to give all the comfort she needed: it was a dog biting its tail, everybody needed help and no one could give enough. They all were in a pit with no possibilities of climbing up.

She took a deep breath, thumb ghosting over the damp cheekbone there, her heart leaping at the tenderness of a common gesture that had become so rare and important now.

«Oh, Mary… what caused this?» She asked with a small voice, inching closer.

The woman let out a heavy breath.

«I was–» She started, voice trailing off, «I was cleaning the attic and I found this box. And inside there were some… letters.»

«What kind of letters?» Zelda asked blankly, even though she already suspected to know what she was talking about. She thought Lilith had brought the box with her when she moved in at the house, but perhaps she was mistaken - or there were more than one.

«Love letters.» Mary mumbled, averting her eyes, a timid smile blossoming on her lips. Zelda retrieved her hand, admiring the lovely shade of pink that painted her cheeks. «And I knew they’re yours even without reading the signature–» She chirped, teeth timidly scraping at her bottom lip, «the paper smells like you.»

Zelda smiled at that. Even if she hated the habit of spraying perfume on the paper like Hilda did, pretending to be in some old, cheesy, vintage movie, Lilith always said that everything that came from her, inevitably took her scent.

«Really?»

Mary nodded.  
«Still, after years locked in that box.»

Zelda took a small breath, and it was her turn to avert her eyes, suddenly very interested in the lines between the floor tiles, absent-mindedly counting the closer shards that laid there.

«Have you read them?» She wondered, struggling not to show her flaring emotions.

«Just one.» Mary admitted, then snorted and smiled sheepishly. «I started reading one but couldn’t bear to finish it.»

Zelda wanted to ask her why. But on the other hand, the reason was obvious: all the letters she’d written were full of emotions, letters she never actually sent when her girlfriend, and then wife, was away on whatever work trip and then gave them to her when Lilith came back. They were journals, mostly, Zelda telling about her days, about the things she’s done without Lilith by her side, telling her how much she missed her and how hard it was to sleep at night without the familiar lull of her heartbeat. Those letters were filled with shared and unshared moments, they were filled with love for Lilith, they were filled with _them_.

«And then what happened?» She gently urged, sniffling lightly.

«I cried.» Mary said simply. «I went to the bathroom to wash my face and when I looked up… I saw my reflection in the mirror and I hated it–» Her voice was quivering now, blue eyes watery as the memory flashed back, «I absolutely _despised_ it, because I cannot remember you... or who I am.»

«Mary–» The redhead stopped, lips parted, hand hovering right beside her face. What could she say about it? What could she say to make her feel better? Nothing seemed enough.

She exhaled slowly, wiping a damp lock of dark hair from her face.

«And then- it just _happened_.» She mumbled, heaving a choked breath, her eyes wandering around the bathroom, on the shards, on the blood drips, on the broken mirror, at Zelda… without dwelling on anything in particular.

Was she talking about the punch or the cut? Zelda swallowed thickly, gazing at her face, that beautiful face that was only a pale shadow of her wife’s, hidden behind a veil of pain and desolation.

«It’s going to be alright, Mary.» She said and she promised.

Standing on her feet, she quickly gazed around the room, heaving a relieved sigh when she found bandages and some disinfectant in the toppled cabinet near the tub. She returned to Mary and gently pulled her wounded arm toward her, letting it hover above the towel she’d settled on the floor.

«It’ll sting a bit.» She warned and without further ado, she sprayed some of the translucent liquid on her skin. Mary winched in pain, but she let Zelda wrap up her arm as best as she could, the white fabric getting soiled almost instantly with a pallid shade of red, but no fresh bleeding.

«Thank you, Zelda.» Murmured Mary out of the blue, eyes fixed on the bruised fingers poking out of the bandages.

The redhead barely resisted the temptation of planting a kiss on the crown of her head when she rose up on her feet again.  
Without saying a word, she slid out of the door and gestured to the dog to follow her in the living room; once there, she grabbed the coat hanging by the door and returned to Mary, walking quicker now, ignoring the horrible noise of glass squeaking under her soles.

When Mary looked up at her with inquiring eyes, she just leaned forward, draping the coat over her shoulders and fastening the button under her chin.

«Wha–»

«Can you walk? A little stroll in the forest with me?» Zelda prompted softly, a reassuring smile on her lip. «It won’t take too long, I promise.» She gently grabbed her arms, tighter on the uninjured one, and before Mary could even utter a word, the redhead had managed to hoist her up on her feet.

«What are you doing?» Mary finally brought herself to ask, returning the hold on the woman’s hand, their fingers automatically intertwining. She stumbled a little and found herself leaning into her welcoming arms.

«You’re coming home with me.» Zelda told her calmly, but her tone was firm, of someone who wouldn’t accept complaints: she’d made up her mind. After all, she’d sworn to take care of Lilith no matter what and she would be there always, especially when her wife needed her without even being aware of it.

«But you don’t have to–» Mary tried to mumble, only to receive a glare in response.

Words died in her mouth for good when Zelda wrapped one arm around her waist, the other clutching at her left hand as they walked around the tub, out of the bathroom, a meek but wagging Vinegar Tom in tow.

«I’m not leaving you alone, tonight.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3  
> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	15. Next to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3  
> Happy holidays, fellow ~~wiccans~~ sapphics!

AN: Flashback in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 15 - Next to you**

_I’m not leaving you alone, tonight._ She’d said, and it was a promise, an oath she’d taken, to take care of Mary. She did. She would.

In the forest, they talked. Zelda assured her they would go back first thing in the morning and she would help Mary cleaning up the cottage, in the meanwhile, they could go to the attic in the house and find some old mirror to replace the broken one, even just temporarily. Everything would be fine - she kept saying that whenever she heard a louder sniff coming from Mary by her side - she would make sure _everything would be fine_ and when Zelda put something in her head, only the apocalypse could stop her. She hoped her wife remembered that.

She kept thinking about the best way to help Mary, the best way to tend to her needs, the best way to make her feel loved and cherished, but on the other hand, she was scared because she was leading an already upset Mary into the lion’s den. How would she keep her away from Sabrina and her enthusiasm? How would she keep her away from Hilda’s natural instinct to pamper everyone, especially family? How would she keep her away from Ambrose and his non-subtle ways to spy on people, trying to get through them even when they feel invaded?  
She had called her sister and warned her, of course, but Zelda was very worried it wouldn’t make much of a difference. Was she doing the right thing? Or she should’ve stayed in the cottage, instead, not dragging Mary from a place that was relatively free of memories to the one that was full of those? No, her instinct told her she was doing the right thing: Lilith belonged with them, in their house, with her family.  
She should’ve done that way sooner, perhaps, yet there was always that little voice in her head telling her she was making the biggest mistake. Zelda was torn. 

She was relieved, nonetheless, that Vinegar Tom had taken upon a mission all of his own: trying to make them both smile with his silly behavior. And so, while they walked on the shortest path that linked the cottage to the mortuary, he would bring sticks to them, barking happily to signal a squirrel, protect them from said squirrel, bring rocks and roots and jump around.

«He was your first gift after the wedding.» Zelda told her, the words getting carried away by the chilly wind. «He was in a cardboard box, floppy ears and all.» She smiled fondly at the bittersweet memory, the joy of getting Vinegar Tom mixed to the dread of her wife’s first work trip.

«Who chose the name?» Mary wondered with a wince, genuinely curious.

«I did, of course.» The redhead replied proudly, heaving a sigh when she could finally spot the lights coming from the house.

It wouldn't be long now, just in time for dinner.  
Was there anything Mary didn’t like? Surely Hilda had cooked a full course meal even if Zelda had specifically instructed to keep it cool and simple not to overwhelm their guest, made she’d even prepared her favorites. Her favorites being _Lilith_. What if she liked what she used to loathe? It was all too strange. 

«It’s a play, is it?» Mary asked tentatively after a while spent in silence.

«Yes.» The redhead confirmed. «You were studying the script for some research and started to read it to me at night.» She told, tilting her head to the side, a wave of sudden embarrassment washing over her.

«And you liked it so much?» Mary asked, eyes wide and shinings behind her glasses, the setting sun seeping through the trees casting the most pretty shadows and on her face.

«Goodness me- _no_.» Zelda chuckled. «I fell asleep every time, it was so boring. But I liked how the name sounded.»

«You’re a strange woman, has anybody told you that?» Mary shook her head, heaving a breathy chuckle with mirth in her voice.

Zelda nodded.

«Yes, _you_.» The redhead smirked, the memory flashing before her eyes. Maybe she would tell her about that time too.

Surprisingly enough, the house was practically empty when they arrived: Hilda had sent Sabrina off to the Putnams for an extraordinary sleepover and had suggested Ambrose going out with his friends from Riverdale, giving him a remarkable late curfew, as for herself she tried her best to keep it cool, even if at some point she broke character and threw adoring glances at the both of them; the dinner she cooked was indeed one of Lilith’s favorite, but still a normal choice not to be too obvious.

Zelda was immensely grateful, especially when her sister noticed the bandages poking from the sleeves of her coat - she’d insisted on keeping it on to hide the blood-stained sweater - and offered to change it without asking questions. Hilda had always been good with wounds after Ambrose and Sabrina, both keen on hurting themselves as kids, so she hoped Mary would let her tend to it.

Her sister inspected her skin, applied some other disinfectant and cicatrizant paste, and then wrapped the wounded wrist with a tight bandage. Mary thanked her, testing the binding and Zelda did the same, throwing a grateful look at her sister when she left to put back the aid kit.

Both nestling a cup of chamomile tea in their hands, they stood in silence, their minds floating away.

It wasn’t the first time Mary had been in the house after the accident, but this was different: this had the familiar and comfortable vibes of something similar to their old domestic life and it was sending the strongest tug in her stomach. She was ecstatic, of course, but also nostalgic, because she had all that without really owning anything. Lilith wasn’t there with her and Zelda had to keep reminding herself every couple of seconds. She couldn’t grab her, she couldn’t hold her, she couldn’t kiss her, she couldn’t take her in the living room to sit by the fire with her to read or talk, she couldn’t take her to their bedroom, nor fall asleep in her arms knowing she would be there in the morning. She couldn’t do anything if not treating her wife like a common guest and it was pure torture.

Sipping slowly from her cup, she let her gaze dwell on Mary, her haunted expression, her eyes wandering around the kitchen supposedly seeking for anything familiar but finding none. She looked lost and helpless and tired.

To be honest, Zelda felt tired too.

«We should call it an early night.» She offered, standing on her feet and collecting the two empty cups to settle them both into the sink. «Hilda has made up the guest room for you.»

It had been Hilda’s room after the wedding and she’d shared with Dr. Cee when he came over, but after the accident, it had remained empty except for a couple of weeks when Hilda got the flu: Zelda couldn’t sleep alone anymore and Hilda felt much calmer when she could keep an eye on her sister; it was a practical arrangement and now it came of use. 

The brunette, however, just shook her head, not showing any sign of movement, not even when Zelda gestured to follow her.

«I hate to cause so much trouble.» She whispered.

Trouble? Zelda was _happy_. She was making her happy: Mary would be just across the corridor, a few steps away from her. It was something already.

«Mary, let me take care of you.» It was a plea, a request, maybe even a subtle order. Because, honestly, who would take care of her? Zelda had her sister and her nephews, Mary had no one. She had to change that, convince Mary she could rely on her totally, that she could require her assistance whenever she needed, asking without reservations. It would be a long journey, perhaps, but they would do it.

Zelda was aware she already had her trust, but she needed more: she needed to let Mary know it was a voluntary commitment because… yes, because she still loved her. Of course, she did, even if Mary might not love her in return. _Not yet_.

_Breathing against the full-length window of her hotel room, Zelda watches calmly at the nature surrounding the place. It’s the middle of the night, but the moon shines so bright on the snow all over that the whole place seems lit up, almost dawn, it’s mesmerizing, yes, but that’s not the reason why she can’t sleep._

_The anxiety twisting up her intestines is sending shots of adrenaline every time she thinks about it: she’s in Canada and this is not a family holiday; she’s in Canada and she’s not sleeping in the same room as Lilith; she’s in Canada and tomorrow she’s getting married._

_Zelda exhales and the glass gets immediately fogged, her hot breath contrasting with the freezing temperature outside - it's summer, but an unexpected storm brought snow... and it's all so special._

_She holds herself tighter, fingers squeezing the fluffy bathrobe she’s wearing; she thought a relaxing bath would help her, it didn’t. And now she’s also worried about looking like a zombie, sporting big, dark halos under her eyes due to the lack of sleep on her wedding day, just when she’s supposed to look nothing but fabulous._

_And Lilith… What is Lilith doing right now? Peeking above the shoulder, gazing at the closed door, she wonders if her fiancé was sleeping or getting the last things ready or coping better than she is. Is Lilith excited as well?_

_For a moment, she regrets telling Hilda to sleep in her own room with her boyfriend, but she’s not exactly a twenty-something bride with cold feet, so she doesn’t need her friend - or sister - to sleep by her side even though Hilda has done that whole her life, so Zelda thought better to own that moment and stay alone for the night. The night before of becoming half of an official couple. It wouldn’t be just her anymore. And it would be forever._

_She thought it would do good, being alone for one night, just one night, but now Zelda just feels lonely and scared. Not because Lilith isn’t the one, of course she is, and for precisely that reason she’s afraid she might not be enough._

_She loves Lilith more than anything else, she loves her so much sometimes it hurts just to think about it, but would it last for eternity? Would Lilith last forever? The plain truth is that there’s no life without Lilith in it._

_She’s suppressing a wet sob when she hears a knocking at the door._

_She frowns, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her soft robe, and pads quietly on the moquette toward the door. There’s knocking again. Perhaps it’s Hilda checking on her? Her sister always has a sixth sense when it comes to–_

_«Zelda?»_

_«Lilith?» She asks, hurriedly fastening her robe tighter around her body, as if she intends to open the door. She can’t, and the realization hits her like an electric kick. «What happened, are you ok?»_

_«Couldn’t sleep.» The woman murmurs, her low voice comes muffled from the other side. There’s a faint shuffling sound and Zelda can easily imagine the woman dragging around her foot on the moquette, like a child would do in the sand, simply to stare at the traces left._

_«You’re not supposed to be here.» Zelda replies, but her voice quivers. No, she can’t open the door: there are traditions and she doesn’t want to jinx it, nor test out or challenge bad luck. She can’t open, she can’t let her fiancé in, so she just leans on the white wood, instead, hand splayed there, cheek and ear pressed against the cold surface, hoping Lilith is doing the same on the other side._

_«I miss you.» It seems like a confession, a pained one, and her voice quivers so Zelda’s heart quivers too. «What are you doing?»_

_«Nothing,» she says hesitantly, «thinking about you.» She corrects almost with a soft sigh, teeth scraping at her lip._

_She has been thinking about the both of them, to be precise, and she’s been doing that all day; during the stroll with Hilda downtown, buying all sorts of useless trinkets at the fair - together with a not-so-useless blue garter she would wear tomorrow because why not following all the tradition at this point? - and she’s been thinking about Lilith and their future life with Sabrina while they had hot cocoa in the snow and at dinner with Ambrose and then Lilith again, and only Lilith, after they all retreat to their bedrooms and she had decided to take a bath. A relaxing bath that had turned out to be anything but relaxing._

_«Open up.» Lilith whispers and there’s a faint scraping on the other side of the door as if the woman was playing a cat begging to be smuggled in._

_There’s nothing Zelda would want more right now and it’s just unfair that Lilith, of all people, is asking her to break a rule that is already painful to observe._

_«Hilda would kill you if she finds out.» The redhead breathes out, and it’s true, and she’s trying so hard to keep her promise, but she can feel her walls already crumbling down. «And then she would kill me for letting you in.»_

_«What if I keep my eyes closed?» Lilith offers and the other woman can almost feel her whine in frustration, stomping her slippers op the moquette in the hallway._

_Zelda seems to consider it: her sister would always complain because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other and she was right, because Zelda couldn’t, and neither could Lilith, but on the other hand, Hilda talked about not_ seeing _the bride - brides, in this case - so technically it_ can _work. And, yes, she would do anything to feel her future wife’s touch and touch her in return, finding loopholes is her thing. But still… how can she resist, then? Would she be liable not to peek, when Lilith would be there, her face, her eyes, how would she do it?_

_«I don’t trust you- I don’t trust me.» Zelda scoffs, resting her forehead on the closed door, hitting lightly the wood in utter frustration, eyes shut. And then- and then, yes! She knows what to do. «Wait- I have an idea.»_

_She scrumbles away, and her hands are in the drawers, digging, messing her perfectly neat clothes, and in the suitcases and in her purses and shopping bags and she can head Lilith calling her name, confused, but she ignores the woman, too engaged with finding just what she needs._

_«Zelda?»_

_«Keep them shut.» She instructs and waits just a few seconds to be sure._

_Zelda closes her own eyes, grabs the handle, and pulls the door open._

_She can feel herself smiling and she hopes that the breathy giggles coming from Lilith are from the uniqueness of the situation and she’s not watching, mocking her for uncertain walking, blindly approaching with the smallest steps, arm outstretched to feel where she is exactly. And when she does find something, she chuckles, thinking she’s just jabbed her fingers between her ribs, judging by the sharp intake of air from Lilith. The redhead mumbles an apology, mirth on her lips when she lets her hand hover upward, pads brushing against her chin and cupping her face, finally. Zelda rests her hands there for a moment, stroking the cheekbone with her thumb when she feels the woman leaning into her touch._

_And then Lilith shivers, because there’s a hand carding through her hair now and it’s not empty; before she can realize what is happening exactly and what is Zelda holding, there’s a silky material pressing on the bridge of her nose, and a knot forming at the nape of her head, and she silently gasps in surprise when her already dark world falls into an even darker obscurity; when she dares trying cracking open one eye she can officially acknowledge she’s been blindfolded._

_«Kinky.» The woman can only bring herself to comment, a cheshire grin spreading on her lips when she feels Zelda’s hand trailing down her arms, reaching her hands, putting something between her fingers: something narrow, pliable, slightly itchy._

_«Shush! Now do me.» The redhead urges and even while she says those words she can feel her fiancé’s grin growing wider, spreading her lips to the impossible._

_«Always_ so _impatient.» She comments, as if on cue._

_Even if she keeps them close, Zelda rolls her eyes, silently waiting to be blindfolded as well. She smiles when she feels Lilith’s fingers dwell in her hair, wantonly rubbing against her neck when she parts from her._

_Zelda vividly hopes no one’s watching._

_Worrying on her lips, unseen, the redhead searches for her hand, their fingers intertwine immediately, and then she’s tugging Lilith inside, the door closing on their backs._

_They’re both stumbling, the dark-haired woman being clueless about the room disposition and Zelda being too caught up in the moment to remember exactly where is the bed or where is the desk, or even where did she leave her suitcase during her mad quest for suitable objects to blindfold each other._

_She’s still walking backward, which doesn’t help a bit, but she chooses to ignore everything: the bed is somewhere behind her and it’s empty, which means that once they find that piece of furniture, they can forget about everything else._

_«Innuendos, innuendos, will you ever stop?» She murmurs, still drawing Lilith closer, stretching her neck toward her, their breaths mingling without their mouths ever touching._

_«You’re marrying me in a few hours.» Lilith replies, matter-of-factly and by the sound of her voice Zelda can tell she’s still grinning. She’s right: she knows about her unfaltering need to make her laugh and the redhead loves it - loves_ her _\- and also she’s right about the marriage part. She’s saying yes to the whole package, jokes and all, and she couldn’t be happier about it._

_«I know.» She admits with a dreamy sigh._

_She keeps walking, until the back of her knees finally touches something soft. She grips firmer her fiancé's arm and slowly sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking under her weight._

_Zelda leans forward and she can feel the warmth coming from the woman’s thighs against her cheek - predictably, Lilith is wearing her comfort pyjama shorts and Baltimore Ravens t-shirt and the redhead is glad she’s chosen those because she knows what to do with that particular attire of hers._

_«Scared?» Lilith asks, drawing closer, her legs pressing insistently on her knees, thighs flushed against the front of her bathrobe and cheek._

_«Terrified.» Zelda breathes out and there’s a pause._

_Lilith pushes herself away, just a bit, only to be able to districate herself from Zelda’s hold and cups her face with both hands, gently coaxing her to tilt her head upward. Bending down, the redhead can feel her warm breath smelling of mint toothpaste fanning her mouth, and her lips part of their own volition._

_«No need to be.» Lilith reassures her, their mouths finding one another and latching into a soft, tender kiss that only tastes of longing and affection._

_She doesn’t know if it’s been those words, or her fiancé’s presence there, finally by her side as it should be, but all her fears disappear, drained from her body and leaving a pleasant hollowness inside that craves to be filled with the present, and them, and their kisses, and their closeness which is never enough._

_Zelda tries not to break the contact with her lips, teeth clashing and tongues fighting for predominance when she paws blindly at the back of her t-shirt, gathering fabric into her fists, tugging for Lilith to take the hint. And so they part, and the redhead’s ears twitch at the ruffling sound of shredded clothes - her shirt for sure, but her shorts as well? - and then there’s a muffled sound when she imagined Lilith had discarded her slippers. Zelda scoots back, just slightly, legs still hanging from the side of the mattress and she’s unfastening her robe now, letting it slide from her body and behind her, and next she’s toeing her own slippers off._

_It’s Lilith’s turn to reach out with her hands, blindly searching for her soon-to-be wife to find her way around. Her pads brush against her head, but then she’s gone in a heartbeat, and then she finds a hand, but that too is quickly gone. She stills, head suddenly blank, when she finally feels Zelda’s hands on her body and they’re at her waist and she’s grabbing, fingers and nails digging into the flesh with almost bruising force, and then Lilith is turning and stumbling as she tries to compel her fiancé’s almost rough lead. Zelda is tugging her down, the firm hold on her hips never faltering and the older woman has no choice but to obey; her breath hitches when she’s dragged into the redhead’s lap, back flushed against her front._

_«I was thinking about you.» Zelda murmurs, echoing her own words and her voice is already low and hoarse. «And us, together.»_

_«I was thinking the same.» Lilith breaths out, struggling to keep the quiver far from her voice, but she can’t. «And I couldn’t bear to stay away.»_

_They’re skin to skin, and they share scalding warmth, and Lilith can feel the rising of Zelda’s chest against her but even if she tries to mimic it, she’s helpless, her heart and lungs going at their own pace, collapsing and unable to cope when she feels soft pads trailing downward, following the crease where the thigh meets her waist._

_It’s a teeming sensation, her current blindness making Lilith even more self-aware than usual, and she’s fidgeting and breathing through her parted lips, shivering in anticipation. Her knees fall on either side of Zelda’s legs and she’s tugged even closer to her body when her other hand splays on her stomach, keeping her there._

_Lilith reaches blindly behind her, one hand clawing at the duvet to ground herself, the other fluttering above her shoulder, directly into Zelda’s soft hair; she can feel there’s still some moisture on her scalp from her bath and images of her soaking in the tub flashes in Lilith’s mind for a moment._

_At first, Zelda is pushing away the dark hair with her face, taking possession of the exposed skin with her mouth, and then she’s biting into her flesh, sending jolts throughout her body. Lilith squirms, ineffectively, conflicted with her body because it seems like she wants to escape this, but secretly wants more, of course, she does, especially when Zelda travels up, from her stomach to her chest, cupping one of her breasts, kneading the flesh there; she can hear her breathing harder against her shoulder when Lilith’s body respond almost immediately, nipples pebbling between her fingers._

_«Zelda–» She calls, even if she’s there, because Lilith is the one who’s losing herself, now hardly making out what is real and what is not._

_«I'm here.» She feels Zelda smiling against her skin, and she’s kissing again, or suckling, the other woman is not sure._

_She sees stars in the blackness of her eyes when her other hand shifts further, cupping the tender flesh at the apex of her thighs. Lilith quivers, bucking her hips, helplessly trying to move in synch with her strokes, and her back arches when she feels her fingers parting her slick folds, smearing the evidence of her arousal so she can probe and slide effortlessly, Lilith’s body drawing her in._

_Her head lolls backward, and she tilts it to the side, mouth open, waiting for Zelda to follow the invitation. She does, and they kiss, moans getting lost between the two of them, breaths mingling, fighting messily for the lead. Lilith heaves a ragged breath, her lungs burning as she chases her release: muscles clenching around her fingers, the knot tightening behind her navel, heat pooling below, the dull ache teetering to become pleasure._

_«Come for me, Lilith.» Zelda murmurs against her neck, and bites down again._

_It’s enough to make her crash over the edge, growing rigid within the redhead’s hold, and she’s withering further when the heel of her hand presses firmer against the sensible bundle of flesh, aptly prolonging the sweet agony._

_And then she’s panting, out of breath, falling slack against Zelda’s chest._

_«I love you.» Lilith murmurs, releasing her hair, nails scraping lewdly at her scalp._

_«I love you too.» Zelda replies, pressing kisses on her shoulder as she waits for Lilith to recover. «And I can’t wait for tomorrow to arrive.»_

_«Technically,» she takes a breath, climbing off her lap on unsteady legs, «it is already tomorrow.» The woman murmurs. «So this is our wedding morning.»_

_«We should celebrate further, then.» Zelda agrees through a clear grin, and she immediately intertwines her fingers with Lilith’s when she grabs her hands, the mattress sinking more under the added weight._

_Her fiancé is tugging her and Zelda bites down her swollen lip, following her, moving blindly on her knees in the middle of the bed, until she feels Lilith’s dewy body lying beneath her. Climbing on her lap, the redhead imagines the woman’s back propped on the headboard, and if the woman weren’t wearing the blindfold, she would watch and smile down at her, blue eyes roaming on her bare body._

_She shifts closer, Lilith leaving her hands to wrap her arms around her waist, grounding Zelda in her lap, their chests colliding, and then she feels her lifting her thigh, just slightly, but just in the right way to meet her body where she needs it. Her breath breaks when she starts grinding against her, Lilith’s hand gripping her hip, following and enhancing the motion. She curls on her when Lilith leans forward, her mouth kissing its way in the middle of her breasts, lips latching greedily at her flesh. And they’re moving together, one against the other, hips clashing, rubbing, both gathering momentum._

_Lilith is pulling and her hand slithers on the small of her back to drag Zelda impossibly close, and she keeps thrusting against her, and kissing and they’re both moaning and it’s simply perfect when they both still and shudder, two bodies becoming one, their hearts beating at the same pace, ears twitching at the inebriating sound of the other’s moans, and every sensation is louder and stronger and more alive due to their current blindness._

_Slowly, the swirl of emotions, the clumping of the muscles, the frenzy of their thoughts ebbs away and Zelda is smiling, heaving breathy chuckle as she lays by Lilith’s side, spent, and the woman barely resists the yearn to tug off the blindfold simply to look at her, in her daze, white skin flushed and drunken green eyes._

_They kiss again, and despite it being soft, is full of something, another kind of anticipation because they are about to make this all official, for everyone to see, and forever: in a few hours, they would be bound for eternity._

_When in the morning Hilda slides in the room to get one of the bride ready, she almost trips on a pair of slippers lying on the floor - slippers that don’t belong to Zelda.  
_ _She gasps, heart in her throat at the horrible idea of her sister going insane the night before her wedding, hooking with the first person she met, perhaps in the hallways after one too many drinks… and then she sees them, Lilith and Zelda, holding each other in bed, under the sheets, both blindfolded._  
 _She can’t help but sigh fondly at them, tilting her head to the side. At least they listened and they didn’t see each other and they’re so in love she can’t bring herself to be mad. Hilda knows they need each other, it’s not a whim, it’s not pure lust, they really need each other in every way and they can’t bear being parted for too long. She wonders how Zelda would cope when Lilith has to travel, but they would manage… someway._  
 _For now, she’s just excited for her sister, her darling sister, who’s getting married to the love of her life and she can only hope to be that happy, one day, with her Dr. Cee._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	16. Farther, faster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the tags: **viewer discretion is advised**. Although it's nothing graphic, it might be triggering.
> 
> AN: Flashback in italic.

_Losing farther, losing faster._

[Elizabeth Bishop, One Art]

**Chapter 16 - Farther, faster**

Mary had stayed at the house for not more than a couple of days.  
Despite the happiness, Zelda felt upon having her wife back in their house, she couldn’t ignore the haunted expression that had remained on her face during her stay. Because at some point, Sabrina had to come home and Ambrose too, and they were there at breakfast, both fidgeting and trying their best not to make Mary feel uncomfortable, but Mary knew that - of course she knew that - and she felt bad. It was a loop, a dog biting its tail.

When the woman felt physically better, Zelda agreed on taking her back to the cottage. They cleaned up the place, installed the new mirror and they both stared for a moment when they did, mesmerized by the reflection there, Zelda basking in the memories, Mary hating the emptiness that followed.

But then the brunette assured her she would be fine and Zelda believed her - she had to believe her - so they exchanged their numbers since Lilith’s phone got lost in the crash and she had to get a new one. Zelda saved her as “Mary”, although it pained her immensely, then she gave her a quick hug and left.

Not even a week went by before Mary called. She assured Zelda she wasn’t ignoring or avoiding the redhead although she would've claimed otherwise and asked her if she wanted to take a ride with her, to test the car after it had been fixed.

Zelda contemplated for a moment the idea to refuse, still mildly vexed by the fact that after being their guest she had practically ghosted on her, but on the other hand, she couldn’t waste any time and after such an uncharacteristic outburst from her, Zelda supposed she had to have some healing to do on her own. So she said _yes_.

And she couldn’t be happier about it, because when she pulled over in the driveway, she looked like a whole different woman: smiling, eager to make amends, humming to the radio as they sped down the roads, hands tightened on the wheel - right one still wrapped in the bandages but almost completely lacking bruises - asking questions about her life, her family, begging her to bring her apologies over. Zelda listened as she told about the last books she’d read, some were old stories, but other news, but the redhead made sure to listen carefully and with equal interest, thirsty of the sound of her wife’s passionate voice.

Before either could realize it, they were deep in the forest, almost to Riverdale and they stopped to have a thick milkshake that could easily challenge Dr. Cerberus’ ones - even though they wouldn’t dare to tell him that - and they talked more and laughed and it seemed like the time had turned backward and stopped, the reality hitting Zelda only when she gazed into those blue eyes, shimmering just slightly different but different nonetheless, constantly shielded by the black glasses her wife only used to wear at night, and of course when it was Mary’s name and not her Lilith’s the one that slipped from her lips whenever she called her.

Leaning against the seat, Zelda was feeling unquiet. She should’ve wanted for that trip to never end, but she was feeling tired, the constant buzz of the wheels on the road producing a soothing sort of lullaby that threatened to make her lids heavy, and what would Mary think if she fell asleep in her car? The idea made her nervous. She gripped the handle on her door to steady herself, at some point, concentrating ahead while Mary drove and hummed to the radio playing softly.

«Sabrina told me she’s got the part in the play?»

Zelda startled. She looked over at her, lips parted in dismay. She didn’t know what to do, or what to tell her. How did she know about the recital at Baxter High? Why would Sabrina tell her when she asked her niece not to speak about it, specifically with Mary? Zelda wanted to be the one to invite her, she was just building the courage to do it. Yes, she might’ve taken too much time at that point, but still, it felt like a betrayal.

«I- I’m sorry, I wanted to–» She swallowed hard, her heart beating unreasonably fast to cope with everything. Mary knew about the play and nobody had invited her yet: so much for promising not to leave her out anymore.

«It slipped.» Mary said, glancing briefly at her. «Sabrina didn’t mean to say it, she begged me not to speak of it but–»

«Would you like to come?» Zelda blurted out before she could even finish the sentence. She wouldn’t allow Mary to ask permission to come, nor pull out some excuses because it was for Sabrina - yes it was for Sabrina, but not entirely. «Would you come to the play with us… with _me_?» She asked again, calmer now, struggling to breathe normally as she spoke those words. Was it a date? Something like it.

Mary slowed down on the empty road. She smiled, nodded, her hands gripped the wheel tighter.

«Yes. I’d love to.» She breathed out, seemingly satisfied.

Zelda tried to smile as well, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. She felt suddenly queasy, and just for asking her wife out? She had to be really out of practice. She blinked a few times, frowning when she realized her eyes couldn’t quite make out the shape of the trees, the road unnaturally fogged, the cloudy sky suddenly too bright. She heaved a breath through an open mouth, just to hear the unpleasant sound of her heartbeat - too loud, too fast, too uneven - drumming inside her ears.

«Zelda?»

The voice came distant to her, as if she was underwater.

«I’m fine.» She said almost automatically. The redhead took a deeper breath and nodded slightly when she seemed to manage to at least calm the beating in her chest. When her sight came back too, she frowned when she realized Mary had pulled over on the side of the road, so she turned to her with questioning eyes.

Behind her glasses, the woman was gazing at her with a concerned gaze.

«Zelda, you’re… uh- you’re _bleeding_.» She murmured with a small voice.

The redhead stared back, puzzled for a moment, and then she tasted it, the coppery flavor on the tip of her tongue. She reached up at her nose and held her hand up in front of her face, gasping silently at the thin coat of red her pads had collected. Zelda tried to breathe, but it was like there was not enough oxygen in the air and the warm liquid trickled down her upper lip into her mouth. She hurriedly covered her face with her hand, thumb, and forefinger pinching the bridge of her nose.

Dread was spreading inside her like a disease; once again she was dizzy and frantic thoughts gathered in her head, but she stubbornly pushed them all back.

«Could you drive me to the ER?» She said with a surprisingly steady voice, head lolling back against the headrest, eyes squeezed shut.

«No, lean forward.»

«I don’t- I don’t want to ruin your car.» She protested weakly, and this time her voice broke.

«I couldn’t care less about my car, right now.» The brunette replied.

Zelda felt Mary’s hand sneak on the nape of her neck, gently guiding her to almost bend over. Her fingers rested there for a moment before leaving her skin.

The redhead heard the shift of the gears and then the car was moving.

«ER, please?» She asked again and she was pleading now, even though she was struggling not to let the panic take over her.

«Don’t overreact.» Mary replied with a soothing voice. Zelda felt a reassuring hand squeezing her knee. «It’s just a little nose bleeding. You’re alright, I read it could be common in your conditions–»

«No, you don’t understand.» Zelda rebuked and she was panting now, her breaths too shallow and too quick to gather enough oxygen for her lungs. She let go of the handle to clutch at the front of her sweater, suddenly too tight and too warm, but as terror got a hold of her, her hand drifted lower on her stomach, clumping the fabric into her fist. «I can’t–» Her voice came out with a desperate wheeze. «I can’t let this happen again.»

Mary shot an alarming glance at her then and panic washed over her too.

«What do you mean _again_?»

_Lilith rushes down the corridor, dodging people as best as she can.  
Deaf to the few nurses that scold her for running, she keeps going, head straight whenever she’s nearing some injured man with an open wound or another that laments a bone sticking out of his leg. Whatever has happened today isn’t her concern. A chorus of sirens has escorted her from her office to the Hospital and others are still wailing, continuously, mixing with the screams of suffering people and the yell of the doctors calling for their colleagues’ help. Her heart is thumping faster than ever in her life since the Hospital called, and it had continued to thump madly in her chest during the car ride, and as she called Hilda to warn her, asking to keep Ambrose and Sabrina unaware for the moment, and when she parked horribly to ran inside the white building which is currently hosting the apocalypse._

_She is bounced around a few times by doctors and employees, some sending her away to the emergency ward, some others to cardiology, making her slide on the polished floor when they yell that she can’t actually go in there unescorted. In the end, she thinks of hitting admission, even though she highly doubts her wife is still parked there after all that time._

_And yet, there she is. Lilith can easily spot out her red hair among that vortex of people running around everywhere. She pushes aside unceremoniously a shouting man with a bloody nose and rushes to her wife._

_Zelda is sitting alone on a chair, and Lilith almost throws herself on the floor, kneeling immediately in front of her, squeezing her knee to let her know that she’s come, she’s there, that she isn’t alone anymore._

_Even in the middle of that chaos, she can hear her wife’s ragged breaths, but Lilith can’t exactly tell if it’s her blood pressure causing that or simply fright._

_«I’m here, Zelda, I’ve got you.» She says, loud enough for her to hear, but soft enough to sound at least reassuring._

_When her wife doesn’t answer, nor move, Lilith swallows and starts to silently panic: she’s cradling her head, clearly in pain, and when Lilith cups her face with both hands to tilt her face up, she notices that her eyes are bloodshot, teary, meaning that it’s indeed her blood pressure and it’s spiking alarmingly. Hilda had told her how to identify the symptoms a long time ago, but Lilith had hoped she would’ve never had to use that knowledge._

_Glassy green eyes struggle to focus and when Zelda’s hand grabs her wrist, clinging to her for dear life, Lilith wonders why on Earth she isn’t already taken care of by somebody. Yes, of course, she can see there is a disaster going on, but her wife needs help! But then again, how would they know about the gravity of the situation when there are people bleeding to death in the corridors? The poor thing can’t even breathe properly, let alone speak, so those doctors aren’t even informed about her condition._

_«Zelda, I’ll go get help.» She stammers, not really wanting to part from her wife, her heartbreaking when she actually has to tug Zelda’s hand away from her wrist. She stands up and places a sloppy kiss on her forehead, before looking around and targeting the first person wearing a white uniform._

_Lilith sprints again, making brief eye contact with him and tugging at his arm when he attempts to flee. Not today, not now._

_«Sir, please, my wife there, is having a crisis,» She stutters, gesturing around with her free arm, «the redhead.» She says in haste, making sure his gaze is following her finger as she points. «She has chronic high blood pressure and–»_

_«Ma’am.» The doctor sighs sternly: a warning. He tries to wiggle his arm free of her grasp and she has to let her go. The last thing she needs now is him calling for security. «There’s been a major accident on the highway, as you can see people are dying and we’re short-staffed–»_

_Lilith waves her hands desperately to stop him: she needs to talk, to inform him and he has to listen to her._

_«No, you don’t understand, this is an emergency!»_

_The doctor glares at her: final warning._

_«Ma’am, I understand your position, but I have greater emergencies than a woman with high blood pressure. So if you please sit down and wait for your turn, I–»_

_«She’s pregnant, you moron.» She yells in his face, her eyes wide and dangerous, almost challenging._

_Finally, the doctor seems to reconsider. He stretches his neck, takes another look at a struggling Zelda, then gazes down at Lilith again and sighs sharply._

_«Alright, bring her. Name?»_

_Lilith almost screams in relief._

_«Spellman.» She murmurs in a shaky voice. «Thank you, doctor.»_

_She’s not able to follow her all the way through. After they put her in a wheelchair, Lilith has run after them, trying to keep up, her brain unable to process all the technicalities they’re babbling about: tests, ultrasounds, preparations, more tests, procedures. In the end, in front of the swinging doors, she can only watch in horror, helpless, as Zelda’s hand slips out of hers, limp and oh-so-cold, as they wheel her down somewhere she can’t go._

_A nurse collects her and escorts her in another ward, where Zelda would be brought, after._

_Lilith plops down on the chair before the empty room. 'After what', exactly? She knows they will do everything in their knowledge to keep her - them - safe, but they didn’t say anything to her. What would Zelda endure, in there? Would they hurt her? Why wasn’t she allowed to hold her hand? What if she gets scared? Lilith surely is. Out of her mind, scared._

_She leans back in the chair, head hitting the wall behind, but she barely registers the pain. She takes a few deep breaths and searches for her phone in the pockets of her jacket, then dials Hilda’s number with shaky hands. She knows she has to know, but there is a part of Lilith that wishes she doesn’t pick up; because what will she say when she herself knows so little?_

_«Lilith? Bloody Hell, how is she?»_

_«Hi, Hilda.» The woman mumbles, breathing into the phone: there it is, the question she feared. «I- I don’t know.» She answers sincerely. «They took her away and–»_

_«What did they say?»_

_«Nothing much.» Lilith sniffles, wiping her runny nose with the back of her hand. «There’s been an accident and everybody’s busy.» Lilith sighs, rubbing her hand on her pants, maybe a little too harshly, because her skin starts to burn. «But they took her and they’re running tests and– I don’t know.»_

_«Alright.» Hilda mutters, even if clearly everything is far from being alright. «What should I say to Ambrose and Sabrina? They’re already asking questions since their Aunt isn’t home.»_

_«Nothing!» Lilith cries out, maybe a little too loudly. She clears her throat and tilts her head up, trying to cast back the tears that threaten to spill from her eyes, affecting inevitably her voice as well. «Tell them I took Zelda out on a surprise date, lie, tell them anything.»_

_«Love, you can’t stay there by yourself, waiting.» Hilda whispers, sniffling herself._

_«I can manage, Hilda.» Lilith rebukes. «I’ll call you as soon as I have news.»_

_«Give Zelda a kiss when you see her.» The woman chirps from the other side of the phone, in the smallest voice Lilith has ever heard; Lilith wants to say that yes, of course she will, but only a choked moan escapes her lips. She is already sobbing when Hilda hangs up on her - Ambrose and Sabrina approaching asking questions again - the static sound replacing the comfort of the familiar voice._

_Alone, Lilith can’t find a reason not to cry, and so she does._

_Minutes pass and Lilith finds herself praying to whatever superior being - neither she nor Zelda is exactly religious - can help them. How did it happen? Maybe if she’d stayed home that day, like Zelda had asked, maybe if she accompanied her to Riverdale to meet that client, maybe if she’d just drove faster…_

_Half an hour pass, then one whole hour, then two. Lilith sits and bounces her knees, then she jumps on her feet as if the chair has burned her and paces around the hallway, desperately producing some sounds by stomping her feet a little heavier than necessary to just ruin that deafening silence that is becoming utterly unbearable. She texts Hilda when she feels the phone buzz in her jacket._

> _News?_

_Lilith sighs._

> _None._

_She replies and glances again at the time. Another twenty minutes. Why are they taking so long to fix whatever is wrong with Zelda? Is it a good sign or a bad one? Why doesn’t nobody tell her something? Have they just forgotten about her being there?_

_She is sitting again on her chair, elbows on her knees as she cradles her head, strands of dark hair cascading on either side of her face, shielding her from the outside world but, at the same time, keeping all her thoughts inside. Will she even see her again? But more importantly, will they be alright? She doesn’t know, and the idea of something happening to either of them is tearing her apart._

_When she finally hears the elevator chime, she stands up on shaky feet and wipes her cheeks hastily, tears still falling freely down her damp skin. She recognizes the doctor in the hallway, and he is pushing a flatbed with a female colleague by his side. Lilith rises up on her tiptoes to see if she can identify the patient and her heart skips a beat when she notices the soft mass of red hair splayed on the white cushion._

_Zelda is sleeping, apparently, and everything looks perfectly normal judging by the familiar curves under the blue blanket. She can’t help but smile when they walk past her, Zelda hesitantly blinking her eyes once before closing them again._

_«Zelda, hey...» She murmurs, but her voice is barely above a breath, so she doubts anyone has even heard her. Lilith tries to follow them when they approach the room, but as soon as they push Zelda on the bed inside, the woman detaches from it and positions herself right in front of the doorway, actually preventing Lilith from entering._

_«Mrs. Spellman, I’m doctor Reilly, a specialized obstetrician.» She informs, her voice low and professional. What Lilith does not like about her was that gloomy expression on her face that just haunts her thoughts. «May I have a word?»_

_All her previous, momentarily joy gets stuck in her chest, a painful lump that still threatens to explode replacing the empty spaces between her ribs._

_«I– yes.» She mumbles, glancing now at Zelda, now at the doctor. Is there something wrong with them? «How are they?»_

_The obstetrician pauses for a moment, which irritates Lilith. Trying to keep her panic at bay, Lilith follows the male doctor with her eyes as he scribbles something on the files at the foot of Zelda’s bed and then exits the room, all the while avoiding eye-contact with her. What is the matter?_

_«Would someone just speak up? She’s alright?»_

_«Your wife is stable now.» The doctor nods, but Lilith sees her swallow and by the tone of her voice there is a 'but' waiting to make its appearance._

_Lilith rubs her temples and gazes down at her own shoes.  
«But?» She urges._

_«But the fetus was deprived of oxygen for far too long and there was no heartbeat; there was nothing we could do, except performing an emergency curettage to avoid further damages. It’ll take a couple of months for her to recover completely and then you can try again.»_

_Lilith falls silent for a few minutes, just swaying back and forth as she nods, absent, the doctor’s words swirling around her head more bitter and painful than a death sentence beckoned upon herself. Zelda had just hit her seventeen weeks and after their last ultrasound, they’d learned it was going to be a boy; they had started to call him silly things while searching for actual male names that could fit and match their tastes, which was not an easy task. And then, suddenly, their boy isn’t a boy anymore, he has returned to be something with no identity because, being lifeless now, he isn’t even entitled to have one._

_«Mrs. Spellman, I’m deeply sorry, do you want to sit or have some water?»_

_Lilith just shakes her head no, partially grateful that she’d chosen the direct way to tell her the news, because, honestly, she wouldn’t have been able to resist anything else._

_«Does she know?» She manages to croak out._

_«The anesthesia will wear off soon enough. I can inform her, if you prefer–»_

_«No.» Lilith interjects, sniffling, fighting back tears as she returns to face the doctor, feeling slightly guilty when she finds herself unable to smile or to properly thank her for having saved her wife’s life, at least. «No, I’ll do it.»_

_After a brief discussion about Zelda’s permanence at the hospital, whether she is allowed to stay the night and all the days to come, future medical examinations and information about visiting hours and how many relatives are allowed at once, Lilith finally works up the courage to actually enter the room._

_Zelda looks so small and lonely in that bed, and she feels tearing up already at the thought that she is indeed alone, now. Her already pale skin is of the color of the sheets, which makes the copper in her hair even brighter; beautiful, in a way, and so unbelievably sad._

_Lilith approaches her timidly, feet almost gliding on the floor as she tries to produce as little noise as possible. She walks to her and carefully sits on the edge of the bed, hoping not to hurt her by tugging at something hidden underneath the blanket, and just stares at Zelda. She blindly reaches for her hand and begins to rub her cold skin in slow and soothing strokes, trying, at least, to ease her awakening._

_Zelda eyes flutter open after quite some time. The drugs still heavy on her eyelids, she struggles to focus for a while, then finally Lilith sees her pupils react at the neon light above her bed and she’s able to see the familiar, marvelous green of her irises._

_Lilith doesn’t know how, but she manages to smile._

_«Hi.» She whispers, blinking away a few tears from her lashes._

_Zelda grunts in response, licks at her chapped lips, and looks around for a moment._

_Lilith lets her be while the memories flood back, trying to delay the fatal moment as much as she can. Her whole body feeling crushed under the weight of the impending, and inevitable news._

_«Lilith.» She murmurs back with a weak voice._

_The dark-haired woman instinctively leans forward, propping herself on her elbow so she’s closer to her wife. She cups her face and Zelda rests her cheek in her palm, breathing calmly into the touch. Lilith swallows through a dry throat, her thumb tracing the soft apple of her cheek._

_Lilith gasps silently, she opens and closes her mouth until a strangled whine comes out of her lips, drawing Zelda’s attention to her. She has to tell her… she has to..._

_«Zelda, listen-»_

_«I’m sorry.» The redhead interrupts, her voice still uneven, but clearer now. She closes her eyes for a moment and sighs. «I should’ve been more careful. I promise I’ll listen to you, and rest more often.»_

_A smile creeps out on Zelda’s lip and Lilith’s heart just stops for a moment. In an instant, her hand is in her hair, soft strands sliding between her fingers, as she strokes her wife’s head protectively._

_«Shh, it’s not your fault.» She whispers soothingly before she can even realize what she’s just said. She hates that Zelda would ever think this is her fault. But knowing her wife, she will have to deal with that, eventually. The thought of her blaming herself, punishing herself for something that couldn’t probably be avoided, sends a tug to her heart and tears just spill from her eyes. Her poor attempt to bow her head and conceal the evidence fails miserably._

_Zelda frowns, gazing at her with a confused frown._

_«Lilith, why are you crying? We’re fine. I'm strong and he is too, you know.»_

_Lilith lets out a wet sob at that and suffocates the following strangled ones behind her palm. Yes, their boy was strong, he had been, but not enough. Hesitantly, she peeks at her body with the corner of her eye. Beneath the thin blanket, her stomach is still swollen, but it will heal, eventually, and flatten in the next few days as the doctor said. It breaks her heart to notice that her wife’s hand has hovered down, cradling her belly protectively as always. How will she tell her that there’s nothing to cherish, now? Her hand joins Zelda’s and strokes the soft skin there._

_«Zelda, he–»_ He is no more, gone forever, and there’s nothing I can do to protect you from the pain nor the loss and I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you. _Lilith stares into her eyes, tears keep streaming down her cheeks. «He didn’t make it, Zelda.» Lilith watches her wife take a sharp, small, intake of air and her eyes getting glassy._

_Zelda swallows, then parts her lips as painful sobs start to rake through her body._

_«No, don’t cry.» Lilith asks - begs - her, even though she knows neither of them can keep that promise. «Please, don’t cry.» Is she asking that to Zelda or herself, now? Lilith tries to stay strong, but her lower lip starts to tremble and she crumbles down._

_She leans forward, her head crashing on her shoulder, muffling broken sobs into the crook of her neck. She holds her tight, shaking, Zelda’s silent tears dampening the pillow._

_«Soon enough, we’ll try again.» Lilith promises, her words strangled against her wife’s neck and crushed between her own sobbings. «We’ll try again.»_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my insta lamarwy_ao3 for extras about this chapter!  
> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	17. Paradigm shift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

**Chapter 17 - Paradigm shift**

Letting out a frustrated growl, Zelda threw the unfinished book on top of the covers. Not knowing what to do, she kicked her legs under the sheets with the only idea of making some noise and slumped on the pillow behind her back, which was itself propped against the headboard.

Hilda had provided her with a variety of books, but after a few pages she found each one of them extremely boring; Vinegar Tom would sleep by the bed at night, but during the day he was off around the property on his own, not giving her much distraction; then she’d tried one of the videos Sabrina had recommended and saved for her in a list on her laptop, but after a couple of hours of breathing exercises, of women telling how beautiful and marvellous something so gory and painful like childbirth was, she grew annoyed with everyone and just sat there in her bed without a purpose.

Hence, when she heard the sound or voices right outside her bedroom door and quickly glanced at the clock just to realize it wasn’t yet time for her vitamins, she practically beamed at the idea of people in her room - it didn’t matter if it was Hilda, Ambrose or Sabrina checking on her, she was determined to drag whoever it was in and make him or her stay and engage a real conversation that wouldn’t include plane crashes, memory loss, loss in general, babies or pity for herself.

«Zelda, darling?» Her sister peeked inside, talking in a very soft voice, careful not to disturb in case the redhead was napping.

Her sister. Her sister was good. If she could manage a good pout she would lure her in and make her stay for a while. Zelda stretched her neck, showing she was up and away and very much ready for every activity, so she grinned eagerly at Hilda when she pushed the door wider open.

«Guess who came to visit?» Her sister asked with a ridiculously high-pitched voice, similar to the one she used when she had to cajole people - Ambrose and Sabrina… and, yes, herself too - into taking the most bitter medicines.

«Hello.» It was Mary’s head that poked from the doorframe, above Hilda’s shoulder.

«Mary!» The redhead immediately straightened her back, almost as if she intended to leap out the bed but remembering she shouldn’t at the very last moment. Her lips widened into a bright smile instead: Hilda was good, but no one and nothing could compete with her wife.

«I’ll leave you to it, then.» Hilda smiled, shrugging her shoulder once, excitedly, wrinkling her nose as she slipped out her room, leaving Mary under the door.

The dark-haired woman stood awkwardly there, clearly unsure whether she was supposed to enter or not. Zelda gestured to her to do so and for as strange as it was to give permission to her wife to come into their bedroom, she did, gladly, only to have her there and close.

When Mary finally compelled and closed the door on her back, worrying at her lip to hide her blatant discomfort, Zelda felt her heart leap: they were alone, in their bedroom, the world outside ceased to exist, it only mattered here and now. 

«How are you feeling?»

«My sister forced me to bedrest.» Zelda murmured, faking annoyance. In truth, she felt like she needed it and, during the day as well as during the nights, she would mostly sleep to get her strength back after fainting in Mary’s car a few days prior.

«It’s probably for the best.» Mary agreed, her face the mask of concern. Perhaps she was thinking about that day, her desperate rush to the hospital while she was unconscious - Hilda told her: Mary looked like a ghost, worried to death as they waited for the doctors to tend to her. That woman who wasn’t exactly her wife had spent a while bouncing her knee nervously, showing behaviours that could only be explained with residual of Lilith still lingering within her.

It pained Zelda to see her so worried still, so eager to help, maybe, but totally unaware about how to do it.

«I’m fine, now.» The redhead reassured her, patting the duvet with her hand. There was a chair beside her vanity, but she’d completely forgotten about it; also, quite frankly, she wanted Mary to sit on the bed, as close to her as she could.

For days she’d longed for her wife’s embrace and company and her heart clenched every time she dwelled on the fact that Lilith would’ve been with her constantly, wait on her hand and foot, being annoying at times, but so very adorable in her fussing… but she had none of that because her Lilith was Mary and Mary wasn’t her wife.

«I’m glad to hear that.» Mary breathed out, hinting a smile. «You look better.» She agreed and she almost looked relaxed herself when she walked toward the bed, but then she stopped.

Following her unblinking glance, Zelda gazed down at her own stomach, realizing it was the first time Mary saw her just in her night chemise, the curves of her body not constricted by the clothes.  
It was the first time Mary - and even Lilith, in a more ideal world - saw her bump. And even if it wasn’t prominent, not exceedingly swollen just yet, it was undoubtedly  _ there _ .

«It’s alright Mary, I’m not shy.» She retorted with a small voice.  _ And you're allowed to watch _ . She would like to say, but couldn’t bring herself to do it.

The other woman just stood there, breathing slowly, puzzled.

Zelda swallowed thickly, hand ghosting above her side, fingers slightly rubbing her own skin through the silky material. She averted her eyes, considering the idea of pulling the sheets up, and after one last glance at Mary, she decided to do just that, pinning the covers to her chest by folding her arms and effectively hiding her body.

Was it really that difficult to watch? Mary had seemed to be at least a bit excited when she showed the ultrasound… but no, maybe it was just Zelda dreaming: even there, Mary had remained imperturbable. Maybe she felt unsure about it and Zelda couldn’t even blame her since that baby, technically, was not hers at the moment.

Yet, however hard she tried to sugarcoat it or reason, or simply deal with it, it hurt.

«I–» Mary cleared her throat snapping out of her daze, and now she was frowning while approaching the bed. «I’ve brought you some goods.» She presented a small basket that, until now, had remained hidden behind her back.

When she sat on the bed, right next to where Zelda’s thigh laid under the sheets, she didn’t move, but the redhead couldn’t even hit a smile. It was stupid, perhaps, and she should only be grateful to have her there and sare some of the pastries she’d brought and talk about whatever, but she just couldn’t, and now tears were prickling at the corner of her eyes.

«Thank you.» She muttered, a little colder than she intended.

Stubbornly staring down in her lap, blinking rapidly to push back the tears, she wondered if she should’ve bothered, still, when Mary wasn’t clearly ready for it.  
Mary wasn’t ready because she wasn’t her wife, and that was understandable, but it wasn’t like Zelda could stop time, or reverse it: she was carrying _her_ baby, _their_ baby despite everything, and she couldn’t keep her belly from growing just like she couldn’t prevent the baby from coming.

Maybe it had been just all a mistake, maybe she should really call everything off-

«Please, let me explain.» Mary interrupted the stream of thoughts abruptly, but not just with her voice, with her hand too, that was now grabbing Zelda’s wrist, tugging it toward herself. And it was an eager hold, a frantic one and when the redhead finally lifted her gaze, she saw that Mary was indeed desperate, eyes watery, and begging to be heard.

Zelda shook her head slowly, biting the inside of her bottom lip until it hurt.

«Mary-»

«It’s not you or the baby,» the woman whispered and her voice was incredibly hoarse, almost broken, «it’s- it’s _me_.»

Zelda scoffed, almost as a reflection. She heard that excuse so many times already, she was the one to use it when she didn’t want to commit to something important. She yanked her hand away and folded her arms on the covers.

«Save it.» She murmured, clutching even tighter at herself. If she had the strength to tell her off and leave the room at once, she would.

«Please, listen to me,» Mary begged again, and her empty hand was now on her leg, squeezing her kneecap through the sheets. «I have to talk to you, I  _ really  _ need to talk to you.» She was pleading, begging again.

For as much as she tried to, Zelda was simply incapable of resisting her.

«Go on then.» She tried to relax and dared to look at her again. Her blue eyes were watery, full of relief but also afraid.

«Since the day you felt unwell and I brought you to the hospital, you see, something... changed.» Mary said, tongue flickering out for a moment to moisten her dry lips. «I got- I got scared.» She stammered, swallowing thickly.

Zelda nodded once, taking the information in. When her blood-pressure spiked up and she had one of her crises, it wasn’t pleasant for anyone.

«I’m sorry you had to witness that, it’s generally less… gory and traumatic.»

«Let me finish, please.» Mary interjected, lids fluttering close for a moment. «I got scared of losing you.»

«Losing me?» Brow pinched, the redhead reached for her hand this time, not fully understand the implication of those words: getting scared at the thought of losing someone was a strong sentiment, perhaps the most powerful of all; the same she’d been through herself, for real, during those days when she thought Lilith had died.

«Not as your wife,» Mary murmured, and the other woman could almost see the clogs moving in her head, searching for the right expressions to use, «just as _me_ losing _you_.» She said slowly, stressing each word. «I don’t know if that makes any sense to you, but–»

«It does.» Zelda offered, feeling her heart swell, beating fast with hope. Before her, there was a woman - lost and confused but a woman nonetheless - talking sincerely, asking Zelda to see her for who she was.

And the redhead was doing just that, perhaps for the first time in months, she was seeing the woman; one that, willingly or unwillingly, resembled herself on so many levels they were impossible to list.

Their fingers searched from comfort and warmth in between the hollow spaces of the other’s hand.

«I don’t remember being your wife Lilith.» The brunette blurted out, quickly, as if she wanted to spare them both the pain of dwelling on that thought too much. «And I know I’m not Mary Wardwell either, but even though the name doesn’t feel right, it grew on me... so to speak.» She exhaled a breathy chuckle, shrugging lightly.

«A name doesn’t make the difference.» Zelda tried to reassure her with a soft voice.

«But it does.» The other replied, smiling. «Because, as Mary, I feel like a blank canvas and everything inside me tells me to let you, Zelda, be the only one allowed to paint on it.» She paused, took a small breath and exhaled shakingly. «You're the only thing that actually feels right in my life right now.»

Zelda sniffled, wiping quickly at her eyes with her free hand. Her heart was clenching at the beauty of those words and she felt privileged and honoured and eager to live whatever Mary intended for both of them. Did she need time? Of course, despite what she thought, Zelda knew that her world was a lot to take on.

«I know my reality is a lot to deal with: young nephews full of energies, an overbearing sister, a baby on the way,  _ me _ .» She scoffed, rolling her eyes. Any sane person would’ve run. But not Mary. And even if for a moment her mind travelled on the resemblance with Lilith, who had taken her whole family at the time, Zelda bit the thought back. It was Mary the one not running away, not her wife.  _ Mary _ .

«I want that.» The dark-haired woman said, as if on cue. «I want it all, just not as someone I’m not… right now.» She explained with a firm voice, reassured by Zelda’s immediate acceptance. «I don’t want to stop trying to remember but I don’t want to waste these moments either.»

Zelda let hot a wet sob at that. She’d spent so many nights pretended to be asleep within Hilda’s embrace, scared to death she’d truly had lost everything because Lilith was alive but not there anymore; she’d been scared one day Mary would leave or fall in love with another and just consider Zelda and her family the ones that took care of her in a difficult time. Hearing that she still wanted them, that Mary felt inexplicably attracted to them, was comforting, to say the least.

«You really mean it?»

Mary stared at her for a moment, it felt like an hour, but it was only just a second, then she nodded, slowly, breathing through her mouth.

«This moment, right now, it will never come back.» She whispered. «I don’t want to waste time chasing something, I want to live it. I want to live this life that has been given to me, this  _ second chance _ . I was just existing until now, but- no more.»

Zelda’s head felt hollow. She’d tasted a whole range of emotion and she’s been happy, and sad, and angry, and disappointed, and hopeful, and then… scared. She could comprehend what the woman was saying, but she didn’t like the consequences: giving up the effort of bringing her wife back, even if temporarily? She didn’t ask that, but simply not to try so hard. Could she do that? Zelda owed it to Mary and herself, in a way.  
Would she be able to start over, with another person? Yes. Yes, she could, for  _ her _ , she could do anything.

«Just Mary?» She offered in a small, tentative voice.

«Just Mary.» The woman confirmed, smiling fondly at her. The hold between their hands tightened. «I want to give everything that I have and everything that I am right now, because you deserve it.» She said, scooting closer. «I might be Mary, but  _ I am here _ .» She assured, speaking slowly, making sure to stress every word and by doing so, turning them into an oath.

When she leaned forward, Zelda gladly met her in a loose embrace. Hesitant at first, it became tighter when the redhead rested her chin on the woman’s shoulder, and she closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, her fingers splaying on her back. It was the first time she’d hugged her wife in months, but it didn’t matter: she’d promised.

She was hugging Mary, now.

She was hugging Mary for the first time and her heart was leaping precisely for that reason and that reason alone.

She might not have Lilith, but Zelda had someone who wanted to be by her side, somebody that wanted to know her and be known in return, somebody willing to share her life not because she’d been forced to do so, but because it felt right.

Zelda could still have everything she wanted… just in a slightly different manner.

End Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be on hiatus to watch CAOS part 4. My pages will remain spoiler-free for an adequate amount of time.  
> Chapter 18 (aka the first chapter of Part Two) will be posted on **January 3rd**.
> 
> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	18. Sweet silver bells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: read the tags.

Part Two

* * *

**Chapter 18 - Sweet silver bells**

Days bled into weeks without Zelda even noticing it, and before she knew it, it was December, and the whole town was coated under a thick layer of white snow.  
Life had returned quiet and pretty easy: Ambrose would tend the family business downstairs while she worked on the papers, Hilda worked at Dr. Cerberus, Sabrina went to school and always came back with great news about her tests and the Christmas recital, and Mary… Mary would often arrive unannounced to pick Zelda up and wait for Sabrina to get out of school to take them both home and spend some times with them, on Saturdays, she would dine at the house or invite Zelda and either of the kids to the cottage for a movie and when the first snow had fallen, they’d all spent the afternoon in the forest, strolling, playing, sipping hot cocoa and roasting marshmallow until the sun set down.

As time went by, Mary grew more comfortable each day. She was confident now, she knew what she wanted and she was enjoying the moment like she intended to do. And Zelda was doing the same: enjoying the moment. With Mary and herself.  
And the signs of the time passing weren’t only tangible for the exponential growth of their bond, but also for the growth of her stomach.  
She wasn’t exactly uncomfortable now that she was definitely showing even with her clothes on - her efforts to hide her belly were close to non-existing - but still, she was afraid she’d overdo and tested her confidence tonight, by wearing a crimson velvet dress that wrapped her body tightly, leaving very little to the imagination.

But on the other hand, how could she’d said no to her niece, when she had pleaded with those puppy eyes of hers? Sabrina had begged her to wear it, because her Auntie had to look at her best since it was the night of her debut as the leading actress. And Zelda said yes. Because she was simply incapable of saying no to her.

But now that she was standing in the hallway, waiting for the school theater to admit fidgeting parents in, she was painfully self-conscious and suddenly the front cut was too low and the skirt - barely above her knee - too short and she kept tugging at it as if it was fighting gravity laws by climbing up her thigh on its own.

What would Mary say? Why was she late? What if she had decided not to come? But no, after all that time discussing it, Mary just couldn’t have a similar change of heart, nor could she have forgotten about it.  
Mary _had_ to come and that was final.

«Stop pulling at your dress, you look great.» Hilda scolded with a fond smile, patting her boyfriend’s arm. «Tell her, Dr. Cee!»

«You look ravishing, Zelda.» He stammered, glaring at Hilda for making him almost drop his latest purchase: a camera with which he intended to record the whole recital. «You truly do. Lovely.» He added then, sincerely.

«Thank you.» She mumbled, almost automatically, shoving her black purse under her arm.

She felt uncomfortable also because she hadn’t been allowed to wear heels. Probably Hilda was right, it wasn’t exactly safe with the snow and the ice everywhere that people would carry inside with their shoes, turning the already slippery floors of the school into deadly traps, but still, something was off and she just felt odd with her ankle boots on.

She huffed in frustration, stretching her neck further when she felt a familiar chill running down her spine. One breath, then two and finally she spotted Mary, marching inside the main entrance and shrugging her coat. Just like everybody else, as soon as she was inside she was engulfed into an unnatural heat thick with humidity, made worse by the crowd there, so she felt the urge to take off as many layers as possible, which meant her coat.

And Zelda remained there, staring, her heart clenching and mouth going dry when she noticed the chosen outfit for the special evening: a tartan suit in shades of dark emerald and narrow golden lines, a black linen shirt underneath, a tie -  _ that damn tie _ \- of the same color, and heels.

«She’s wearing–» Zelda bit down her tongue, swallowing her next words before saying something compromising right there and then. When Hilda shot her an amusing grin, raising her eyebrow allusively, the redhead managed an eye-roll, scoffing to fake annoyance. «She’s wearing  _ heels _ .» Zelda pointed out as if to prove a point.

« _ She _ is not the one carrying a baby, darling.» Her sister replied promptly, the smug smile never leaving her lips. «My future niece or nephew if I may add.»

When she heard Mary calling for her, the redhead turned and smiled fondly at the woman, approaching them and waving at Hilda and Cee. She was carding a hand through her own hair to shake off a few melting snowflakes that threatened to compromise the hairdo she chose. Her glasses were fogged due to the temperature difference. She mumbled apologies to groups of parents and relatives and then, finally, Mary reached them, heaving a relieved sigh.

«Zelda, you look amazing.» She said almost immediately, rubbing her upper arm like always: it had become a habit of hers now and even if it wasn’t a kiss nor a hug, it was a touch nonetheless and made Zelda’s heart a little bit warmer each time.

The redhead felt her cheek grew hotter at the remark, and nervously pushed a red curl behind her ear.

«And you’re dashing.» She breathed out, and forgetting herself for a moment, she let her fingers prick at a loose thread on her lapel, smoothing the fabric right after she removed it. Yanking her hand away as if she’d been burned in the exact moment her brain realized what she was actually doing, Zelda closed her hand into a fist and cleared her throat.

Cee took Mary’s coat to put it in Sabrina’s lockers with theirs, eager to relieve the tension and everybody was glad it worked.

«Should we get going?» Mary offered when Ms. Meeks - wearing a ridiculous reindeer outfit and a red-painted nose - finally granted access to the theatre school.

They all stayed close and patiently followed the flow inside. Cee spotted four strategically placed seats - not too close and not too far from the stage - and launched himself forward, glaring at everyone who asked if those seats were already taken.

Zelda felt unquiet. Sabrina was about to perform the leading role and had been excited for weeks, asking her aunt to help her practice over and over again until Zelda knew the lines by heart herself. She was particularly proud of the adaptation of  _ A solstice Carol _ and she believed that casting her talented niece as Scrooge was not only innovative but the best choice regardless of the gender. Hence, perhaps for the first time she actually enjoyed the school play, mouthing in synch with Sabrina as she walked around the stage as she belonged there. More than once, though unawarely, she turned to her right to throw a proud glance at the woman by her side, who returned it, scrunching her nose in delight when Sabrina elicited yet another applause from the spectators. Between scenes, there were groups of kids singing in chorus, and that too - thanks to Ambrose’s assistance with the music, surely - was surprisingly good to hear.

Soon enough, however, Zelda found herself unable to focus anymore. She had successfully pushed the alluring image of Mary in that particular outfit in the back of her mind, but now it was rather impossible since when Sabrina appeared on the stage for the next scene, Mary hand had dropped on there redhead’s leg and gave a squeeze to her knee to signal her niece’s presence - as if she could’ve missed that - and, surprisingly enough, she had left it there.

Zelda had jumped in her seat at the unforeseeable gesture and then held her breath, almost questioning her whole existence: should she move, risking Mary removing her hand? Should she take it in hers? Should she smile or say something?

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, but just barely so she wouldn’t give the wrong impression to Mary, she bit down her inner cheek, suddenly feeling lost. Yes, she had everything she wanted, but that…  _ that  _ was precisely what was still missing. 

She’d managed to ignore it, thanking the merciful fate that had decided to delay the peculiar - and very inconvenient - drive usually associated with the second trimester, but apparently, Mary was clueless or totally insensible and had triggered it, just now, of all times, with a simple brush on her knee; maybe the suit she was currently wearing had played its part of course, but mainly it was her closeness that made Zelda yearning and weak. Not Lilith, not her wife, not even Mary… just  _ her _ : Her scent, her kindness, how she walked, how she talked, how careful the woman was around her, her eagerness to stay by her side, her smile, her laugh, her eyes.  _ Her eyes _ . Zelda could get lost in those eyes. And those soft touches, she’d been craving anything from those hands for six months now…

Zelda swallowed thickly, suddenly self-conscious and uncrossed and crossed her legs, effectively brushing Mary’s off of her knee. She didn’t want to, but she  _ had  _ to: the room was too crowded, the music was too loud and she was simply too warm. Mary was by her side - and so was Hilda, even though she was too enthralled with the play to pay attention to her, luckily - and Zelda wouldn’t bear the thought of explaining the sudden flush of her cheek and neck.

Sabrina wasn’t on stage, it was one of the moments dedicated to the chorus, and although there was Rozalind singing her solo, the redhead scrambled off to the edge of her seat, purposely keeping her face away from Mary.

«I’ll visit the restroom.» She whispered to nobody in particular. She barely acknowledged her sister nodding - and waving dismissively to shush her - and she was almost out of their row when she felt a hand grabbing her wrist. It was a loose hold, but it took her by surprise and it was enough to stop her.

«Would you like me to accompany you?» Mary asked, mild concern creeping from her lips, blue eyes boring on her.

The redhead managed a bright smile and shook her head.

«No need, I’ll be quick.» She excused herself in haste and left, her hurried steps completely concealed by the music.

She left, followed by Mary’s attentive gaze until she was no longer in sight.

What nobody knew, was that Mary hadn’t been the only one watching.

She unceremoniously threw her handbag on the counter and released a sharp sigh trapped in the depths of her throat.

Cursing under her breath for not being able to properly wash her face with cold water without ruining her makeup, she went for rinsing her hands and patting her neck and chest - as far as the dress would go - hoping the flushed skin would go back to her normal complexion quickly.

She just had to get a damn hold on herself. Hormones or not, she was in control. At least of something - like her body - she had to have control. She could do it: she was there for Sabrina, to celebrate Christmas and the beginning of winter break, which meant more time to spend with the family, decorating the house, the tree, the yard. Yes, there, quiet activities, soothing nap on the sofa with the crackling of the fire, they would invite Mary and play all sorts of games. Fun,  _ quiet  _ fun, and relaxing moments.

_ There, there _ , it was alright again. And she was actually eager to go back and enjoy the rest of the play, with Mary by her side like it should’ve been.

Inspecting herself at the mirror above the sink, she decided that her makeup didn’t need fixing after all and simply grabbed the tap again and went to wash her hands. She tried to focus as best as she could on the loud music and the muffled voice coming from the theatre, hoping that she wasn’t missing anything important. And while she listened and hummed the  _ Carols of the bells _ along with the chorus, she heard someone entering the bathroom.

She tensed, at first, covering her soft singing with a small cough, but then she frowned when she heard a rather disturbing hum coming from the door, one that sounded of smug appreciation. Surely she’d been mistaken. Or it was one of those stupid teens acting like stupid teens.

She was really not in the mood. Well, she was eager to see if they’d kept acting so brave and witty once she’d turned and revealed her baby bump-

She startled when her eyes laid on Hawthorne, Sabrina’s principal, staring at her with a smirk plastered on his lip. Zelda caught him not only staring, but his small eyes were roaming up and down, slowly, in a way that it took her best effort not to wince in surprise and, mostly, disgust.

«Principal Hawthorne, you scared me.» She released a nervous giggle, but kept washing her hands, then froze, the water sloshing inside the sink. «Is this the ladies' room?» She wondered, slightly panicked. She’d check before entering… did she? Perhaps she’d entered the men’s restroom. Well, no big deal, it had been an honest mistake and it was empty anyway.

She turned off the tap and shook her hands to remove the water excess. She would just make her apologies and leave-

_ Thump _ .

She whipped her head up from the sink, frowning when she realized Hawthorne had closed the door. Not actually locked - there was no lock on that - but it was closed now when it was supposed to be left open, else signaling a malfunction in the stalls.

«What are you doing?» She asked, voice flat.

Her breath hitched when Zelda saw him walking toward her, slowly, predatory even, and suddenly she felt exposed and vulnerable like a prey. Instinctively, she backed away from him, just a few steps before her back hit the tiles wall. She was cornered? She wanted out of that situation, even if she had nowhere to run. Her brain was struggling to believe what was happening.

«Don’t wander off, Zelda.» He advised with a low voice, his fingers brushing against the edge of the sinks as he walked even closer. «I just want to talk.»

She didn’t like how her own name sounded from his lips. Besides, when did she agree on using her first name? Their exchanges had always been strictly professional and so very rare as well: Sabrina was a model student.

«Principal Hawthorne, I really think this is appropriate.» She mumbled, trying to sound resolute and unbothered, but her voice broke. She swallowed, shifted on the side, but the last stall blocked her way; on the other side there were the sinks and Hawthorne was in front of her, approaching.

He winced a little, scrunching his nose in a poorly concealed mockery.

«This is my school: I decide what it’s appropriate and what’s not.» He rebuked, bending the corner of his mouth into a crooked grin. «You’re practically a widow, Zelda. Who’s going to provide for you and your baby now?»

No. She refused to believe it was actually happening. Not to her, not now.

He was a few inches away now and his breath was foul, smelling of cognac-laced eggnog. Zelda flushed her whole body against the wall, the nape of her neck hitting the tiles with a dull thud, not at all minding the ache there; she tried to scramble away, but soon realized it wouldn’t be of any use.

«I’ll scream.» She warned, but even while she spoke she realized it was a very weak warning: the music was loud and no one would hear her anyway.

Fingers splaying on the cool, glossy tiles on either side of her body, grounding herself, Zelda wished she had the ability of shapeshifting and melting into the wall - flee, disappear, pretend it wasn’t happening.

«Now, now, there’s no reason to act so dramatically.» He was smug and presumptuous, drawing closer, making it impossible for her not to recoil, just slightly, and the shift in his expression drained all the blood in her veins. «I don’t want to hurt you, quite the contrary, I’d like to have the chance to  _ love  _ you.»

Love? That was anything but love. Hawthorne could be in the throes of alcohol but it didn’t justify him, not in the least: he had crossed all the limits. And she couldn’t run or react too hasty because what if he hurt her or the baby? She would’ve never thought a High school principal could act like that or could be dangerous and yet there they were - and what if he assaulted helpless girls or teachers on a regular basis? Why wouldn’t anyone report him? Maybe he became violent when refused or threatened people and had everyone in his grasp. Zelda needed to be cautious.

If only Lilith was there. If only Mary was there. If only she had accepted her offer to chaperone her to the restroom.

She bit her own tongue to prevent herself from screaming or insult him, shutting her eyes close when his hand ghosted over her hip. She swallowed a pained moan, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes when he leaned into her, bending slightly, and his other hand reached the hem of her dress, grouping the fabric into his fist, knuckles brushing against her bare leg.

She wanted to beg him  _ to please stop touching her _ , but she was afraid it would only spur him further. She was stuck, nauseous, afraid, and alone.

Zelda wished she could turn off her brain and detach from her body, right now, just for a while.

Mary bounced her knee a few times, teeth scraping at her bottom lip nervously. Stretching her neck, she still couldn’t see Zelda coming back from the hallway.  
She’d been gone for too long: what if she was unwell? Maybe she should’ve insisted a little more or just get up and escort her to the restroom, to the cost of looking too apprehensive or pushy. But it would’ve been better than this. There was something wrong - there was a strange tingle in her stomach - and Zelda wasn’t there. She should’ve remained calm and enjoyed the play since Hilda was doing exactly that and she didn’t seem preoccupied with her sister’s absence. After all, she’d just gone to visit the toilet, it was fine - except that it wasn’t and she couldn’t resist the urge.

«I’ll go check on Zelda.» She announced, leaning to the side to whisper into Hilda’s ear as she recorded video after video, completely enthralled, chatting with her boyfriend about this or that kid who was or wasn’t one of Sabrina’s friends.

«Alright, love.» She said, waving her hand dismissively.

Mary shook her head, but couldn’t suppress a fond smile: Sabrina was both her aunts’ idol and there was no surprise they were spoiling her rotten. She should’ve disapproved of such behavior, but after knowing Sabrina, she had to agree the girl deserved it.

Mumbling apologies to every parent who would have now her face or part of her face in their clips now, she slid out from her row and walked quickly around the seats into the exit door, eager to enter the desert hallway in search of Zelda.

With the chaos and the music behind the door, she now found the silence almost deafening. She contemplated the idea of calling the woman’s name, but then what if she appeared too dramatic? After all, Zelda had been gone just a few minutes and she was in a school, honestly, nothing too ugly could happen.

She looked around, saw the classroom doors on either side, the lockers, the posters, the dashboards full of fliers, the men’s bathroom with the door wide open and on the opposite side, the women’s one, which, instead, was closed. That was strange.

Frowning, she hurried there with wider strides, she gripped the handle, and with not much thinking over, she pushed the door open.

She saw Zelda against the further wall, being pushed against it by a man, emitting animalistic grunts, his hand scouting under the skirt of her dress; her eyes were shut and her cheeks stained with dried out tears mixed with mascara.

Mary blinked in shock, hoping with every fiber of her being she was having a nightmare. Blood both drained from her and boiled in her veins.

«Get off of her, this instant!» She shouted, her voice loud and firm, commanding. Mary was almost sure she was actually throwing flames, fists balled by her sides.

The man immediately jerked away, Zelda stopped pressing herself into the wall, the skirt fell down, covering the milky skin of her thigh, but her eyes remained shut.

The man shuffled uncomfortably, panting through his mouth.

«She consented to this.» He said in haste, but it would’ve been clear to anyone he was lying. The state of Zelda was enough as proof.

«I don’t think she did,  _ sir _ .» Mary retorted, clenching her jaw and moving to the side, keeping the hand on the door, pushing it further, and straightened her back, as if she wanted to look taller, somehow. «Leave. At once.» She ordered.

The man bounced his glance from one woman to the other, he growled and then scrambled away past Mary. The woman made sure to follow him with her eyes and heaved a relieved sigh when she saw him heading toward the main entrance of the building, surely running away like the filthy coward he was.

And now… now, Zelda.

Her heart sank when she turned her head and had barely the time to realize the redhead wasn’t leaning against the wall anymore before welcoming her after Zelda threw herself in her arms, her body shaking and trembling against hers, face buried in the crease of the jacket she was wearing. Taking advantage of their current height difference - she’d never been more grateful for a wardrobe decision like that one - Mary held her close, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other cradling the auburn head close to her chest.

«It’s over, Zelda, you’re safe.» She soothed, struggling so hard not to break down to tears herself when she heard her sniffling and sobbing against her.

Still carding her fingers through her hair, Mary left her waist and slid her hand into the back pocket of her trousers, and retrieved her phone to dial the police’s number. She waited, gently swaying as she held Zelda close, hoping to provide her some comfort. When someone finally picked up, Zelda was calmer, she wasn’t crying anymore, but she was still shaking, and hadn’t moved an inch from that spot. Not that Mary minded.

«Hello.» She replied with a surprisingly firm voice. «I’d like to report an attempted sexual assault.» She paused. «Baxter High.»

Zelda listened to the muffled sounds coming from the phone and tried to guess how the conversation was going. She couldn’t think about what happened right now but wanted it to be over, and she wanted him to pay - for her and for all the poor women that had to endure a similar experience. It was inadmissible.

«George Hawthorne.» She mumbled in a small voice, when she thought the officer asked that information. «He’s the principal.»

Mary tensed at that. She snorted, letting out a disbelieving huff while she repeated into the phone.

«No, he’s not in the building anymore: he ran off.» She said then. Another pause.

«Is anyone in need of medical assistance, ma’am?»

Surprisingly enough, that sentence came loud and clear to Zelda’s ears and looking up, she found Mary’s inquiring eyes boring down on her, full of concern. Did she need medical assistance? Luckily for everybody, Hawthorne hadn’t had the chance to actually do any damage. So Zelda ever-so-slightly shook her head no.

«No, thank you.» Mary said into the phone, releasing the breath she was holding.

«We’ll take it from here, thank you, ma’am.»

Mary shut off the phone and put it back into her pocket. In a heartbeat, she was back to holding Zelda close, running soothing circles on her back, hoping that the tremors ebbed away quickly: she didn’t want her to have another of her crisis, and this time she would have all the rights to be upset about something.

«You’re alright, I’ve got you.» She breathed into her hair.

Zelda nodded against her chest, her fingers crumpling the back of the woman’s jacket into tight fists. Lilith had saved from Faustus, Mary had saved her from Hawthorne: it was the history repeating itself, both in the bad and the good aspects of the saying. Nothing had changed, especially the fact that that woman truly did have her. In every possible sense.

«Thank you–» She sobbed, hand flying to cover her mouth as she suppressed a hiccup. «Thank you, Mary, I don’t know what would have happened if you–»

«It doesn’t matter.» The woman interrupted and put an end not only to her words but to her thoughts too. Because Zelda knew what would have happened, of course she knew, and the idea made her feel lightheaded with disgust and dread.

«I’ll take you home.» Mary suddenly said, and her voice was still soothing, but also firm and commanding.

The redhead shook her head. Yes, she yearned to be in the comfort of her own home, but also she hated the idea of being in that big house all alone.

«No, I’m fine.» She assured her, although she wasn’t certain about it. Physically, yes, she was fine, emotionally… that was another matter. But on the other hand, she knew exactly what she needed: Hilda and her boyfriend, Mary, and Sabrina - no, she couldn’t let Sabrina down. «I’d like to go back in there. Please.»

Mary gave her a comforting squeeze and nodded and as if she could sense her needs, she didn’t try to deter her too much.

«If you’re sure.»

«I am.» She tilted her head to the side and breathed slower, wiping at her mouth, makeup coming off with the slightest of touches due to her tears.

«I’m a mess.» She barked out a chuckle when she looked down at her soiled fingers.

The jolly music was still echoing through the empty hallway and into the restroom, somehow dampening the tension she felt until now. Reluctantly parting from Mary, she hoped she hadn’t left any stains on her shirt and built up the courage to look at herself in the mirror. Zelda winced when she had no other option than to confirm her previous statement: a mess. How could she return to the theatre looking like that? Hilda would have demanded explanations.

«Don’t worry.» Mary smiled at her, and she was by her side in a heartbeat. «I’ve got you.» She murmured, echoing herself and reaching for Zelda’s handbag, fishing for something. While Zelda washed her face and when she efficiently removed the majority of the makeup, she turned to Mary and let the woman apply new mascara, a little bit of concealer to mask the evidence of her crying, and then red lipstick on her mouth.

Zelda watched her being busy in perfect silence, the focused expression, her lips slightly parted when she wiped at a smudge at her lips with her thumb, the fond smile that appeared when she was done and followed her gaze into the mirror, admiring her own work. Again, the redhead thanked her gratefully, then took the lipstick from her hand and put it back in her purse with the rest of the makeup.

She took a deep breath, trying to gather enough courage to exit the bathroom and enter the real world that had kept moving outside when they heard a hurried click of heels hitting the floor in the hallway.

They frowned, exchanging a quick puzzled glance before Ms. Meek’s head poked from the door, and the ridiculous reindeer antlers attached to her hairband bounced on their springs.

«Oh, I’m terribly sorry.» She said, and her voice was full of unnecessary mirth, like always. «Principal Hawthorne is supposed to give his Christmas wishes at the end of the play, which is in about thirty minutes, have either of you seen him?»

Blood freezing in her veins at the simple mention of that man and Zelda averted her eyes. Mary moistened her lips with her tongue, gesturing Ms. Meeks to enter and close the bathroom door on her back.

«We need to talk.»

Ms. Meeks listened, disbelief and horror chasing on her face while she kept mouthing “oh my, oh my” incessantly. She expressed her sympathies, assured that Zelda was actually fine and didn’t need anything - water or tea or some pills? - and then hardened her stare, declaring that she would take the matter into her own hands. And then submissive Ms. Meeks declared she would do the speech and the play would go on and they would have the afterparty and celebrate in spite of that horrible man because it wasn’t right to spoil the kids’ fun since they put so much effort in that play. And so she marched out of the bathroom, self-declared Principal, for the time being.

Zelda watched her go with an amused smirk on her lips, glad that somehow that experience had turned a lamb into a lion. It was about time that Ms. Meeks claimed her place in that school.

«Ready?» Mary asked with an encouraging voice.

Zelda looked down when she felt the woman sliding her hand into hers, fingers intertwining, and squeezing reassuringly. It felt surprisingly good: for the first time in months, perhaps, she was safe and anchored, not drifting away anymore; her beacon being Mary and her eyes.

«Ready.» The redhead confirmed, squeezing back. She took a deep breath and followed Mary’s gentle lead across the hallway and into the theatre.

The noises were a welcomed distraction and far more soothing, surprisingly than the silence that had ruled outside. Zelda was grateful that everyone was focused on the play, even Hilda, so she had time to relax as much as she could, and before the final song and the ending, she was back to normal - at least on the outside.

What was different, however, was that Zelda’s hand was in Mary’s, fingers clutched, never leaving one another, their legs barely touching as if to enhance their contact in any way they could. Having Mary close made her feel at peace with the world and with herself.

Minutes went by quickly and before she realized it, she was clapping and cheering, a bright, proud smile plastered on her lips when Sabrina took her bow and everyone went crazy for her. She did the same when the backstage crew came in to take their cheers and Ambrose grinned at her from the stage.

Ms. Meeks did the speech at the end of the play, not even mentioning the principal and Zelda purposely didn’t listen lest spoiling her mood; Mary’s fingers tickled her palm for the whole time, giving her a welcomed distraction.

Then, slowly, the crowd of people was directed into the gym for the afterparty, where there was music - again, Ambrose and other few kids were in charge - and lights and food and decorations everywhere so that they would all celebrate the upcoming Christmas holidays. Zelda had been looking forward to this and now she was definitely  _ not  _ in the mood to celebrate.

When Mary gently bumped her shoulder against her own, the redhead gave her a hint of a smile, trying to reassure her. She was fine - really she was - she was simply wondering why those awful things kept happening to her: almost losing the love of her life, or almost being assaulted - twice already during her life. Was she just unlucky or cursed with an unlucky destiny? What kind of twisted-minded being was hexing her on a daily basis? She would like to know, honestly–

«Aunties!»

Zelda heaved a breath when she heard her niece’s piercing voice, easily dominating over the confused buzz around them. Sabrina was still wearing her Scrooge costume, but the wig, the fake glasses, and the makeup was gone; she gave everyone bright smiles, but when she laid her eyes on Zelda, she threw herself into her arms, happily nuzzling into the front of her dress.

«Did you see me, Auntie Zee?» She asked impatiently, looking up from beneath the redhead’s chin, still clutching at her eagerly. «Did you like the play?»

Zelda struggled not to tear up in front of hundreds of people just because her niece, unlike all the other kids, wasn’t embarrassed about showing affection and was actually behaving like a small child asking for attention. She knew the majority of adults around them were envious and it made Zelda feel immensely proud and blessed to have Sabrina in her life: if not the exact kind she needed, her niece was providing her with all the love she could master. And that made everything else worth it, made all the bad things surmountable.

«Yes, darling, you were brilliant.» She mumbled, pressing a kiss on the crown of her hair. Even if she wasn’t wearing heels, Sabrina was still shorter than herself and Zelda had to thank her mother’s genes for that, which allowed her to pretend the girl was younger than she actually was.

They hugged a little more, then, giving one final - but still attentive - squeeze, Sabrina peeled off from Zelda’s body and looked up at her, frowning, eyes boring on her with her inquiring stare.

«Are you alright?» She chirped.

Zelda exhaled a small breath. It was heartwarming that her niece had noticed something was wrong with her despite all the efforts - she’d fooled Hilda for goodness’ sake - but it also made her feel irked because Sabrina’s questions would raise unwanted attention on the matter. In fact, as soon as those words left her lips, her sister and Cee’s heads whipped in her direction, studying her.

Zelda gave all of them a nervous smile and cleared her throat. She didn’t want to talk about it, nor coming up with excuses or lies. She would say it - to Hilda perhaps - but not just right now.

«Of course.» She breathed, cupping Sabrina’s face with both of her hands and staring into her brown eyes, those too inherited from her mother. «I’m just tired.» She said, and it wasn’t a lie: she felt spent. Before anyone of them could say anything else, Zelda hurriedly kissed her forehead and released Sabrina for good.

«Aunt Hilda and Dr. Cee will stay with you and Ambrose for the afterparty while Mary takes me home,» she announced, speaking softly as if everything had already been arranged. Lastly, she turned to Mary and touched her upper arm, «if- that’s alright with you.»

Even before she stopped talking, Mary was already nodding, her arm hovering on the small of her back without touching her.

«Absolutely.» 

There was something extremely intimate in leaving with Mary while her family watched them and stood behind, and even if no one of them did much as utter a word, Zelda could feel their eyes staring, well knowing their heads were getting filled with all sorts of thoughts and hopes. Zelda knew, cause that was what she was trying so hard to avoid, because she promised: the person escorting her protectively with her hand settled between her shoulder blades, was  _ just  _ Mary.

They retrieved their coats from Sabrina’s locker and ventured outside, searching for the dark-haired woman’s car.

Snow was falling in big, light, flakes and everything was covered in white; their breaths turned into clouds almost instantly and it was positively cold. Without thinking much, Zelda lifted her shoulders and buried part of her face and nose under the lapel of her coat, and while walking, she inevitably drifted toward Mary, seeking warmth and stability, until she was completely leaning into her arm.

Mary didn’t say anything and just held her firmer as she led her toward the car, careful not to trip or slid on some hidden obstacle.

They quickly found shelter in the car and both shredded snowflakes from their hair and clothes. Zelda watched in silence as Mary wiped her glasses and inserted the keys, letting those calculated, methodical movements soothe her spirit and engage her mind. Soon enough, they were out on the roads, which luckily had been salted and were safe to drive through, but Zelda found the silence unbearable, her skin getting goosebumps at the imaginary, horrendous, greedy fingers crawling up her thigh right now-

Zelda got a sharp intake of air, her hand clawing at the seatbelt to ground herself there, in the present, safe beside Mary.

She swallowed thickly when she noticed Mary stubbornly staring ahead, even though sometimes, she could see her peeking in her direction from the corner of her eye, just to make sure Zelda was actually fine. The redhead appreciated her quietness, she wouldn’t bear answering questions, but on the other hand, she was eager to know:  _ how _ ? Not that she wasn’t grateful… but how. Zelda knew she had the strangest feeling when Mary was about to arrive, because she suddenly felt alert and a tingle would spread from her stomach to her limbs, and because she knew the woman before Mary, she could read her fairly easily. But Mary… how did she know? It was torturing her - the silence and the ignorance - so, in the end, she just asked.

«Mary, how did you know there was... something wrong?» She wondered, unsure how to hint at that horrible moment of her life without conjuring too many unpleasant thoughts.

Mary picked at her bottom lips with her teeth, then her mouth opened and closed a few times without uttering a word. In the end, she shrugged slightly, eyes fixed on the road.

«I didn’t.» She chirped out. «I mean- I felt… inexplicably nervous.» Mary frowned as if she was trying to find a logical explanation for it herself. «I felt the urge of having you near, and you- you weren’t there.»

Zelda nodded slowly in understanding. Her realistic side in her brain was shouting that it had just been a coincidence, a matter of pure luck, but the other side was whispering that maybe there was something more to it. Lilith coming back, her wife’s instincts kicking in, even if Zelda promised she wouldn’t think about those things, or maybe- maybe it was, yet again,  _ just  _ Mary developing something entirely new that was also oh-so-similar to her own familiar feelings.

«Either way, you were there.» Zelda murmured, staring down at her lap, her hands going to rest there. «And you kept me safe.»

Mary heaved a long sigh, shaking her head.

«If I came a little early maybe he wouldn’t have touched you-» she bit down her tongue, her breath hitching, «I should’ve come with you in the first place.»

«I asked you not to.» Zelda reasoned. «And… you were  _ perfect _ .» She added, reaching out to give her a gentle squeeze on the hand that was gripping the stick shift. 

Mary heaved a small breath and turned her head for a moment to smile at her, eyes watery behind her glasses.

When after a while they arrived at the Spellman Mortuary, Zelda felt nervous again: the house would be silent and hollow and dark about everywhere and she would prepare for bed in an empty bedroom without her family moving and making noises all around. She would’ve laid down in a cold bed, without Hilda to snuggle to. Would she be able to sleep? What if someone broke in? Did the police find Hawthorne? What if he was waiting for her to lower her guard? No, that was unreasonable: she was letting the panic take over. But, was she?

«Zelda?»

The redhead snapped out of her thoughts when she felt Mary’s hand on her knee. She tensed and, without thinking, she jerked away from her touch, barely resisting the urge to swat her hand away with her own.

She swallowed, covering her mouth in dismay at the hurt expression blooming on Mary’s face.

«I’m sorry.» She apologized, her voice breaking. «I was- I was miles away. Forgive me.» She stammered, shaking her head.

«It’s nothing.» Mary offered, smiling at her. «I’ll call you tomorrow to see if you’re alright... if that’s ok.»

Zelda stared at her for the longest time. She knew she was supposed to clutch her coat and venture outside to unlock her door and enter the safeness and warmth of her own house - it was the reason why Mary had called her name in the first place - but she just didn’t want to.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she tilted her head and sighed.

«Stay?» She asked in a whisper, and it sounded so close to a plea, but she didn’t mind. «Until my family’s back, I don’t feel like being alone.»

Mary breathed slowly, lowering her gaze, and her glasses shifted on the tip of her nose. She scrunched it, trying to push them back without touching the black frame, and moved her head, slightly, into a timid nod.

«Sure.» She whispered and it was so soft that even the falling snow concealed her voice. She gnawed at her bottom lip, white teeth flashing for a moment. «Sure, I’ll stay with you.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡  
> I'm currently mourning (in general) after watching CAOS part 4. If you want to cry with me, my insta is lamarwy_ao3


	19. It’s cold outside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

AN: Flashback in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 19 - It’s cold outside**

_«Zelda, stop fidgeting, you’re making me nervous.» Hilda chuckles as she emerges from behind the table and kicks the oven close with the heel of her foot. «She’ll come. The roads are covered in snow, that’s all.»_

_Zelda barely nods. Perched on her chair, lazily stirring her cup of cinnamon cocoa, she sighs, thinking if it has been a good idea to invite Lilith over for Christmas. Despite not being religious, her family has always been keen on celebrating that festivity and she secretly likes the atmosphere too: decorating the tree, singing the songs, reading the stories in front of the mantel, the sweets and the pies and the presents. Since Ambrose was a baby they all used to go crazy for presents and every year is no different, however, it has always just been them, the Spellmans, celebrating Christmas alone. Lilith was the first outsider allowed in._

_And Zelda felt guilty, at first, for forcing her family to welcome a stranger and involve her in their very special time, but they seemed ecstatic._

_She was relieved and incredibly proud to have such a kind, welcoming people around her, besides, she hated the idea of Lilith spending Christmas alone, ordering in, and reading a book, like the woman had told her: it was simply a sad, lonely tradition Zelda was determined to break for her._

_When the doorbell rings, she almost jumps to her feet. She dusts her skirt, smoothening the wrinkles, and throws a grin at Hilda, who just nods, smiling, silently telling her sister that yes, she looks good ._

_When she reaches the hallway, heels clicking on the wooden tiles, she whips her head around, almost startled when she sees Sabrina’s head poking from the living room, face covered in glitters while she crafts heaven-knows-what under the tree and Ambrose leaning out from above the stairs in his Santa sweater, both asking if Lilith has arrived with excited voices.  
At eleven years old, Sabrina is entitled to be thrilled to have guests over - especially for Christmas - but Ambrose, who’s seventeen, is expected to act gloomy and annoyed and yet here he is, jumping down the stairs, him too eager to celebrate together. _

_Last night, when she kissed them both goodnight, the children told her how happy they were. Zelda smiled, at first, thinking they were talking about Christmas and their presents and the fantastic meal Hilda was preparing, but then, one after the other, they told they were happy because, finally, their aunt Zee was happy. Sabrina particularly broke her heart when she confessed she missed her seeing her smile, because now she was smiling differently, happier, and she already loved Lilith for that. The girl had grown fond of the woman right away, enjoyed spending time with her, and Ambrose too, but it was the first time Sabrina said she loved somebody else outside the family. It was a milestone. And if she still had the slightest doubt that Lilith could not be the one, well, that was the proof she needed._

_So, when she opens the door now, her heart is heavy, galloping in her ribcage almost painfully._

_«Merry Christmas!» Lilith shouts as soon as the door is open, and Zelda chuckles, both because the woman has taken her by surprise, and because she’s struggling to carry an enormous bag while balancing a couple of boxes in her arms._

_«Merry Christmas to you.» Zelda mumbles, frowning in amusement, then shakes her head. «We agreed on no presents, Lilith.»_

_The woman tilts her head to the side, the corners of her mouth slightly trembling and pointing down in a hinted pout._

_«I know, but I couldn’t resist.» She mumbles, faking some sort of innocence blatantly she doesn’t own. «Please? Let me treat you all .»_

_Zelda doesn’t even have the time to argue with her, that she feels a small hand gripping her hip, pushing her eagerly to the side. Looking down, she can see Sabrina’s yellow head poking from behind her skirt, using her body as a shield from the cold weather coming from outside._

_«Presents!» She screeches, eyes growing wide at the size of all the boxes Lilith is carrying._

_«Merry Christmas, Brina.» The dark-haired woman grins, slightly leaning forward to address the child. «Go on inside or you’ll catch a cold!» She advises and the girl nods, gripping her hand into Zelda’s, pulling her eagerly inside._

_Zelda stands the ground for a while, but soon enough she realizes she has to give up and compel, else risking Sabrina dislocating her shoulder. What would her life be now that the two most important women are in league against her? They both own her with a smile or a pout and they know it and Zelda can’t do anything about it. Does she mind? No, not really, although she wouldn’t admit it out loud._

_«Come on in, then.» Zelda sighs, faking annoyance. «You and your presents.» She stumbles on her feet when Sabrina tugs her eagerly again, shouting that Lilith has arrived and that she has brought presents._

_«It’s too late anyway.» Chuckles Lilith, closing the door by guiding it with her foot and then giving one last push with her back until it clicks close._

_«Sabrina, darling, you’re on a sugar rush already?» Zelda scolds with mirth in her voice, trying to fight her dragging by purposely leaning back, but the girl keeps tugging, surprisingly strong, until they’re all in the big living room where they put the tree, their socks above the mantle, and the presents scattered around everywhere._

_«Do you like our tree?» Sabrina asks eagerly, finally releasing Zelda._

_«I love it!» Lilith replies with pure excitement and then puts her bag and boxes under the tree, piling up her presents with the others._

_«Ambrose, Ambrose, look what Lilith got us!» Sabrina jumps into her cousin’s arms and he promptly scoops her up, marching into the room with the others, Hilda in tow, hands covered in white flour and a rag resting on her shoulder._

_«Then it’s a good thing we all got her presents, cous.» He says proudly and gestures to the big sock on the mantel, hanging undisturbed next to Zelda’s._

_The redhead feels her cheek blushing at the sight of Lilith’s face brightening up, her blue eyes glimmering more while she tries to fight some tears._

_«You bought me presents too?» She asks in a small voice, almost surprised._

_«I didn’t buy mine.» Chirped Sabrina, kicking into her cousin’s arms to be let down._

_As soon as she’s free, she runs and kneels by the tree, retrieving a red card with glued cut-out figures and cotton balls on top - surely stolen from Zelda’s bathroom - and some stickers not properly attached. When she hands it over, colorful glitters rain down on the carpet and on the floor, eliciting a horrified gasp from Hilda._

_«For me?» Lilith asks and the girl nods eagerly._

_«I made it just for you.» She states proudly._

_«And there’s a book from me.» Ambrose adds. «Under the tree, the blue package.»_

_«I made your favorite.» Hilda says, still glaring at the girl, who blatantly ignores her, swaying on her feet, back and forth, grinning proudly at the card Lilith is still holding fondly._

_«How- how do you know my favorite dish?» The dark-haired woman inquires, voice uneven, blinking rapidly._

_«You mentioned once at dinner, love.» Hilda rebukes matter-of-factly, pure mirth in her voice now. «The stuffed potatoes are chilling in the oven as we speak.»_

_Lilith stares at them with a slack jaw, unable to utter a word, but it’s obvious to everyone she’s happy and grateful, so much, in fact, that the woman is truly speechless. Somehow, they have managed to finally still her incessant babbling._

_«All simple things, really.» Zelda breaths out in the end. «I sewed the Christmas sock for you.» She says, pushing an auburn lock of hair behind her ear. And her eyes drift unconsciously there, to the white name on the red fabric, the stitches a little crooked, not perfect like Hilda’s on the other socks, but she had insisted on doing it herself._

_«They’re all so precious.» Lilith whispers, clutching Sabrina’s card to her chest, unbothered by the glitters shedding on her sweater, which are probably going to be stuck in the fabric for a very long time. «Worth more than anything else.»_

_«Stop it, you’re going to make Auntie Zee cry.» Quips Ambrose, already giggling._

_Zelda startles, suddenly feeling everyone’s eyes boring on her and she hurriedly wipes at the corner of her eyes, seriously fearing to ruin her makeup; why on Earth hasn’t she opted for waterproof mascara instead of a regular one? Because it’s bloody Christmas and she wasn’t expecting to be crying, that’s why. And yet there she is._

_«Who’s crying?» She snaps, sniffling softly._

_«I am, a bit.» Hilda pouts, fingers pulling at her rag as she tries to stifle her sobs._

_«Well, I see we’re all good at keeping promises, Zelda.» Lilith sighs, eyes wandering around the exchanged presents they agreed not to exchange._

_«One of us,» Ambrose starts to chant, clapping in rhythm and engaging Sabrina, who starts to do just the same, mimicking one of the latest movies they saw, «one of us, one of us, one of us!»_

_«Come on, you little freaks, dinner’s almost ready!» Hilda urges them and they keep chanting, jumping, and clapping on the way out._

_« We accept her, one of us! » They shout one last time before the words bleed into more appropriate Christmas carols following Hilda’s lead._

_Zelda watches fondly, heart swelling with infinite pride and love for her family who has just accepted Lilith, just like that. She slowly walks to the sofa, where the woman has let herself fall, eyes staring at Sabrina’s card between her hands._

_The redhead smiles, resting her hand on the crown of her head, and the soft touch seems enough to pull her out of her thoughts: Lilith is smiling now, and it’s a timid one, her breaths come out wet from her mouth as if she’s on the verge of crying; maybe she is._

_«You truly are, you know.» Zelda whispers, scooting closer to her, wiping curly locks of chocolate hair away from her face. «One of us, I mean: you think like a true Spellman. Like us .»_

_Lilith tilts her head to the side and her timid smile transforms into a foxy smirk._

_«Is that a proposal to take officially your last name, or…?»_

_«Perhaps, one day.» Zelda chuckles, kissing the corner of her mouth and then resting her head on her shoulder, nuzzling closer._

_Lilith closes her eyes, then leans back on the sofa, tugging the redhead with her._

_«I don’t even remember the last time I was this happy on Christmas.» The brunette mumbles, and her hand rubs up and down on Zelda’s arm, then reaches hers, both of their eyes mesmerized by the movements of their fingers, chasing, tickling, sliding in between the hollow spaces._

_«Children make it easier.» The redhead offers, but she feels the other shaking her head against her own, hair tickling her neck, the tip of her nose, still cold from outside, brushing against her jaw._

_«No, I mean- after my parents died, I only had Miss Wardwell to take care of me, which was an old neighbor.» Lilith sighs sorrowfully, her chest heaving and falling heavy now. «She was a kind lady, tried her best, but we were alone in her house, deep in the woods. I’ve never felt the Christmas atmosphere.»_

_«That’s precisely why I couldn’t let you spend Christmas all alone in your cottage.» Zelda points out, and wraps her arm around her waist, keeping her even closer to her body, the heat radiating from her more welcomed than the fire’s. «We’re going to treat you so well, you’ll catch up for all the years in solitude.»_

_«Oh, I bet you will.» Lilith agrees, wrapping her own arms around the woman’s body, breathing in the soft scent of cinnamon and gingerbread lingering between the copper locks of her hair. «I’m going to visit her tomorrow if you want to come. Miss Wardwell, I mean. You introduced me to your family a long time ago and she is- well, she’s the only family I’ve got.»_

_«I’d love to.» It’s Zelda’s turn to nod and fight back tears. Honestly, she had thought Lilith’s tutor died years ago since she only rarely mentioned her name, but apparently, she was very much alive and now she was truly eager to meet the woman who raised Lilith, surely the main influence who made who she is now._

_They stay like that, listening to each other’s breaths and the crackling fire, bodies relaxing against one another as time passes, and then Lilith gasps, lifting her hips from the cushion, suddenly fishing for something in the back pocket of her black jeans. Her mouth moves with a string of unspoken curses._

_«I almost forgot.»_

_Zelda chuckles, amused by the woman’s messy movements, and waits._

_«What are you doing?» She asks. «Looking for your phone? Ambrose is in charges of photos during festivities, you know, he’ll be very cross if you–»_

_«Tempting, but no.» She huffs, the tip of her tongue running on her upper lip as she jerks her hips further up. «Wait, wait–» she suddenly stops, then falls limply back on the sofa. «Got it.»_

_Zelda tries to stretch her neck, see what’s in her hand, but she can’t: Lilith keeps it hidden behind her thigh._

_«What is it?» She asks impatiently._

_Lilith is nibbling at her bottom lip now, her blue eyes shimmering impatiently when she shrugs innocently._

_«Your present.» She whispers._

_Zelda frowns, then eyes the boxes under the tree: there are only three, but she hadn’t even noticed it, earlier, too engaged with her family being smitten with her girlfriend and the other way around._

_«Lilith, you shouldn’t–»_

_«Please, open it.»_

_Zelda heaves a small sigh, taking the small, red box Lilith is placing into the palm of her hand. It’s poorly wrapped: too much tape and the bow is crushed, but to her, it’s the most beautiful package ever. She bits the inside of her cheek while she unwraps, feeling the other woman’s eyes boring on her with eagerness. Paper shredded, the redhead is left with a small box of light matches. She laughs._

_«Seriously?»_

_«No! C’mon, I didn’t have anything else suitable, I- ugh- keep going!» Lilith laments, letting out a frustrated growl._

_There’s an undying smile on her lips when she moves the box and something rattles inside. Something metallic. When she pushes the lid, a shiny key pokes from the bottom of the box._

_«Lilith?»_

_«It’s a copy of the keys of my cottage.» The woman whispers softly, teeth flashing against her lip, pulling at a small pith there. «It’s the most important thing to me, that house in the woods. It’s all I have, really.» She frowns, then heaves a small chuckle. «It’s all I am.» She corrects. «I want it to be yours too.»_

_«Lilith-» The redhead mumbles, but soon enough her breath hitches, and she’s unable to speak further._

_«I know it’s not much, but–»_

_«No.» Zelda shakes her head. «No.» She repeats, firmer now. Her hand cups Lilith’s cheek, and beckons her into a soft, but incredibly fond kiss. «It’s perfect.» She whispers, warm breath crushing on her mouth as it mingles with hers. «You are just perfect.»_

She was struggling, panting, but no matter how hard she tried to run, her feet were stuck to the ground. Zelda clawed at the wall behind her, the tiles cold against her palms and against her neck. She wanted to scream, but no word came out of her mouth. She was feeling hot, her head throbbing and there was a heat blooming from within her chest; but she was also cold, and in horror she stared down at herself, the dress moving up her thigh on its own will, even if there was no one but in that small, silent four-walls room with no windows and no doors.

She reached down, gripping at the hem of her dress, the velvet soft beneath her pads, and she pulled down, but she was helpless against the invisible force.

And then Zelda shut her eyes closed, turned her head, her cheek flushed against the tiled wall while she tried to recoil from the nauseating smell of liquor and eggnog that seeped into her nostrils.

She felt hot tears running down her cheeks, except that those were not tears, and when she snapped her eyes back open she could see fingers touching her face, greedy, small, large and so many of them, drifting away on her neck, down to her chest, she felt them crawling under the cut of her dress like thousands of ants.

Dreaming? Maybe she was. It was too illogic for something like that to happen for real, but how could she rouse herself up?

Zelda swallowed, tried to picture her own bed underneath her, the soft covers above her and Hilda’s arms wrapped securely around her body like every night, and she did feel something, grounding her, a limp weight on her side, as she drifted away from her nightmare and came back to the reality.

She woke up with a startle, her eyes darting everywhere around and panic settled in the pit of her stomach: that wasn’t her room. There was a different ceiling, different furniture, the socks hanging from the mantel, the tree in the corner with the lights off. Soon enough, she realized she was in the living room, on the sofa, legs tucked beneath herself, slumped against… Mary. The redhead looked up, timidly, drowsy eyes focusing on her sleeping features, lips slightly parted, glasses crooked on her nose, head lolled back into an awkward position which would procure a sore neck for a few days at least.

Releasing a breath, she rested her head back on her shoulder, and her hand easily found her arm wrapped around her waist, fingers lazily splayed on the swell of her belly. Mary was sleeping, probably had found a comfortable position to hold her and nothing more than that, but Zelda’s heart skipped a beat anyway: Mary had never been that close to the baby before, and even if she hadn’t intentionally put her hand there, maybe it had been an instinct, and it was enough.

Last night, after the incident and the play, she’d asked Mary to take her home and asked her to stay over until her family would come back from the afterparty. She’d made them both tea to relax, then contemplated the idea of going to bed, but that felt like an imposition and she didn’t want to push Mary into something neither of them was ready for: because Zelda had been in her nightgown in front of her already, Mary had slept in their house and had been in their bedroom, but that would’ve been different because Mary would’ve been forced to actually watch over her as she got ready to bed, she would have been forced to witness her night routine, and then what? Zelda couldn’t sleep in an empty bed anymore, especially after the experience she endured a few hours prior, but asking Mary to join her was totally out of the question.

In the end, she opted to move to the living room, Mary lit up the mantel and they sat on the sofa side by side, talking. She’d fought her tiredness as long as she could, then she remembered Mary scooting closer, tugging gently her arm until her shoulder met her body and her head went to nestle comfortably in the crook of her neck. After that, it was all confused: Mary’s hand carding through her hair - she’d imagined, dreamed, or it had happened for real? - the cracking of the fire mingling with a soft humming sound - she’d imagined, dreamed, or it had happened for real?

Zelda sighed, wondering if they had actually spent the night there, on the couch, Mary holding her after she’d fallen asleep; it had to be like that, though, because she could hear voices coming from the kitchen, and the fire had completely died out, the log reduced to smoking embers.

Also, she was noticing it only now, there was a tartan blanket thrown over them both she didn’t remember retrieving. Perhaps when Hilda and the children came back, they found them sleeping and decided not to disturb, opting to simply keep them warm through the night. Maybe not the wisest choice for her back - the sore muscles arching already - but certainly it had been for her heart and spirit.

Zelda wished she could stay there all day, but she knew she couldn’t: there were things to do, and Mary… Mary would want to go back to the cottage, perhaps, and change and shower. Of course, she could’ve done everything at the house, but then again, it would’ve meant interfering and testing the invisible boundaries they’d mutedly settled in the last month or so.

No, she had to accept the fact that they’d spent the night sleeping together on the couch, holding, but now it was over. Besides, she was eager herself to step out of that dress - it felt incredibly filthy on her skin right now - and soak into the tub for as long as she could, letting the hot water soothe the tension in her muscles.

Zelda sighed, rearranging just slightly her legs, but the small movement was enough to send a painful jolt in the small of her back, and she jerked, hand planted there, pushing on her sore spine.

And with that, Mary startled awake herself. She too looked around with frantic eyes, but memories of last night flooded quickly back and immediately focused on the woman beside her.

«Zelda?» She called, voice hoarse from slumber, her hand flying to grab the woman’s upper arm.

«I’m fine.» The redhead hissed automatically, her breaths shallow as she waited for the pain to ebb away on its own. When it did, she dared to heave a sigh and giving in under Mary’s firm, but incredibly tender touch, she laid back down on the couch, resting her head on the padded cushion.

«You had a rough night.» Mary whispered, rubbing at her neck and wincing herself.

Zelda tilted her head to the side, blinking the last remnants of drowsiness from her eyes. Images of her last dream flashed in her head, she pushed them all back, but she realized others would come up, chasing each other in a sickening compilation: water overflowing from the sinks in the High School bathroom, Christmas carols ringing in her ears, Hawthorne’s face, his breath, his hand, his voice, his fingers-

«Did I?» She mumbled, words breaking while she spoke, trying to cover those horrors with her own voice.

Mary nodded, smiling knowingly, even though they were both aware it was a question that didn’t need an explicit answer.

«When Hilda came home with the children last night, you were already asleep and we thought it would be better for you to just rest.» Mary explained, teeth scraping at her bottom lip. She paused, lips parted, words stuck in the back of her throat. «I didn’t tell her about- you know.»

«Thank you.» Zelda nodded, somewhat grateful. «I’ll tell her. And Sabrina: she’ll ask questions about the absence of her Principal.» She trailed off, mind wandering on the possible ways to break the news to her: she wanted to be the one to tell her, she didn’t want her niece to learn that her aunt had been assaulted by her headmaster in the school bathroom during her Christmas play through some newspaper, or from one of her friends through a social.

«She probably will.» Agreed the other woman, nodding slowly.

Zelda heaved a sigh, still not believing the amount of crap she had to deal with in the last months. She was honestly tired of living like that, and she only craved some peace. Her only anchor was her family and Mary, who, however, wasn’t yet completely involved with them, not in the way Zelda wished she was.

«I guess,» she took a breath and held it in, «you want to go now.» She mumbled, releasing the air stored in her lungs.

Mary stared at her, watching closely as the redhead put down her legs, retrieving the blanket and folding it neatly to put it on the arm of the couch. They both felt exposed, for very different reasons.

«Only if you’re alright.» Mary whispered, and her hand went to grip at Zelda’s wrist, the thumb rubbing small circles on the back of her hand.

«I will be.» Zelda assured, and she didn’t have to lie, because the familiar noises coming from the other rooms - the voices, the water sloshing, the clicks of the dishes - were enough to make her feel safe. Not whole, yet, for Mary wouldn’t be there, but at least in the right place with, partially, the people she needed.

«I’ll call you.» Mary offered, standing up and stretching her limbs before reaching out her hand, waiting for Zelda to take it. Gently, she hoisted her up, smiling fondly at her, blue eyes drifting lower on the curves on her body.

Zelda felt her cheeks growing warmer and cleared her throat, pretending not to notice. She tugged at the hem of her skirt, pulling it down almost eagerly as she padded barefoot in the hallway, the rhythmic clicks of Mary’s heel behind her.

The redhead walked slower than needed, absent-mindedly delaying the hour of parting for as much as she could. Perhaps she could invite Mary over for dinner tomorrow? Or ask her if she wanted to join one of their traditional trips to Dr. Cee to taste his latest Christmas inventions, which usually involved testing for him new pumpkin milkshakes or gingerbread ones. She giggled at the memory of one particular Christmas where Lilith had tried so many she ended up feeling sick. No- no Lilith. Mary, _just_ Mary. It didn’t matter how much she needed Lilith right now. Mary was the one in her life, at the moment. And she wanted her, she wanted to spend time with her, in any way she could. Dinner, stroll, Dr. Cee-?

«Would you like to come to the cottage, in the afternoon?» The woman blurted out, out of the blue, and Zelda stopped dead in her tracks right in front of the door.

«I-» She opened and closed her mouth quickly, her brain struggling to elaborate the proposition and, more importantly, a suitable answer. Would she like that? As if Mary had to ask and could have doubt about her feelings. « _Yes_. Yes, I’d love to.»

The dark-haired woman smiled brightly and went to grab her coat from the hanger.

«I’ll come get you at four if that’s alright?»

Zelda nodded, unable to conceal the smile on her lip at the thought of spending some time with Mary alone. It would be a recovering day for her, starting from a long bath, a regenerating meal with her family, watching a Christmas movie until four, and ending with spending time with Mary in her cottage. Yes, things would be good, everything would come out just fine.

Bracing herself, she unlocked the door and opened it wide enough to let Mary slide outside. She breathed in the chill air smelling of snow, let her eyes roaming on the white coat that had engulfed everything overnight and waited.

Mary threw at her one last smile and had just taken a step under the door, when she stopped, jumping slightly, and her hand went to the crown of her head, frowning: something had dripped on her hair.

They both tilted their head up in the same instant and Zelda’s heart sunk at the sight of the small mistletoe hanging right above the door’s arch.  
She told Sabrina and Hilda not to put it on, this year, but of course they hadn’t listened and hang it anyway: it had been a gift from Lilith, who had taped mistletoes everywhere around the house, one year, forcing everyone to smooch and kiss every two seconds; Zelda had complained, of course, claiming it would be tedious on the long run, but she’d secretly loved every second of it. Without Lilith, however, everything was different and she couldn’t hope for Mary to be a fan of the tradition. Did she even know what the tradition was?

Zeda tried to play it cool, widening her smile, pretending the mistletoe above their head hadn’t bothered her, nor brought unwelcome memories into her head.

But Mary had spun slowly on her heels, and now was staring right into her eyes, teeth worrying at her lower lip, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and she stood there, her eyebrow cocking up, waiting.

Zelda froze.

_Oh._

Was she asking for permission? Was it really happening, now? Zelda couldn’t bring herself to move when Mary leaned closer, carefully, impossibly slow, and placed a kiss - just a peck - on her cheek, dangerously close to the corner of her mouth.

Her eyes fluttered close, time freezing around her as she savored the softness of those lips touching her skin once again, after months.

There was a small fire blooming inside of her chest now, and she felt hot tears prickling at her eyes.

When she moved away, far too soon to her licking, Zelda didn’t get the chance to kiss her back, so she was left there, painfully alone, with her lips slightly pursed and a maddened heart, pounding unevenly inside her chest.

«See you later.» Mary said softly, and the redhead just stared at her, dumbstruck.

Turning around in haste, the woman then engaged a little run on her heels as she headed to her car, though there was no need to hurry unless she wished to risk slipping and procure herself another concussion.

Zelda finally released the breath she was holding and blinked.

«See you later.» She echoed though there was no one there to listen, her breath turning into a white cloud of smoke.

Yes, things would be good, everything would definitely come out just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the flashback, Ambrose and Sabrina are quoting _Freaks_ (1932). I'm a film buff, bear with me.  
> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	20. Almost believing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

AN: Flashback in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 20 - Almost believing**

Almost believing, this one’s not pretend.

_ Shrinking under the tartan blanket, Zelda rereads the same exact sentence for the fourth time already. She sighs frustratedly, breathing through her mouth just to watch the white cloud dissipating into thin air; she ponders the idea of reaching for the cup of scalding hot tea that Hilda had placed on the table next to her, but that would mean moving and possibly let some freezing air seeping through the opening of her blanket, so she decides against it. _

_ She rests her head against the lounge chair and finally gives up the book she’s trying to read, clutching it tightly on her chest because, again, she doesn’t want to move. _

_ Zelda likes the winter season - waiting for Christmas day, the jolly atmosphere, the children getting excited for the holidays and the snow and all the sweets their Auntie Hilda bakes relentlessly, the soothing sound of the fire crackling in the mantel - but also she hates the cold weather: the snow would be much more enjoyable if warm. Yet, she doesn’t feel like complaining today: that's the first snow of the year and they’re celebrating it with the traditional day out, and that is not just Lilith playing with her nephews, but her wife. The first Christmas as a married woman. The redhead sighs constantly at the thought, her heart swelling in her chest. _

_ «So, do we have teams, or-?» Lilith asks eagerly, all of the sudden.  _

_ Zelda can already see her gathering some fresh snow into her gloved hand and press it into her palms. _

_ Sabrina, backing up into her oversized woolen cap that constantly falls onto her eyes, is doing the same, and Ambrose, slightly far away, mirrors them both, a playful grin plastered on his lips. _

_ «All against all.» The boy replies, clicking his tongue. «It’s always been that way, besides, there’s three of us playing.» _

_ «Girls versus boys?» Lilith suggests, throwing a conspiratorial glance at Sabrina, who starts to giggle. «Or-  boy , to be precise.» _

_ «That would be hardly fair!» Ambrose protests. _

_ «Fine. All against all it is.» Lilith finally agrees, kneeling behind a log while Ambrose disappears behind the front of the hearse and Sabrina, panicking, ducks behind the first tombstone in the graveyard. _

_ There’s a pregnant silence now, and Zelda found herself sitting upward to have a better view of the incoming battle: one teenager, barely old enough to be called so, against a proper teenager, against her wife, a very much adult. _

_ «Lilith!» _

_ Sabrina’s high-pitched voice echoes around the yard, but it’s as if a ghost had talked, since everyone is still hidden. _

_ «What?» Her wife calls back. _

_ «Don’t hit Aunt Zee!» Sabrina shouts. _

_ Zelda frowns, surprised to be called into account even if she’s not effectively playing their game. Yes, technically, she’s in range since her lounge chair is settled in the middle of the yard, but why would anyone target her? Of course, Lilith would and Sabrina thought of it before her. It’s nice of her to worry. _

_ «Why not?» Lilith asks, yells, and her voice has a tinge of disappointment in it. _

_ «She’s going to yell and sulk at you for days.» Ambrose interjects, chuckling. _

_ Zelda frowns, unimpressed, but she also has to admit that it’s true: she hates being hit with a snowball because it’s cold and wet and horribly unpleasant. She’s never understood why people would find it funny. _

_ «Why.» Lilith insists, petulant. _

_ Zelda scoffs. Really was she planning on throwing snowballs at her? Seriously. Thank goodness Sabrina seems to be in her wife’s head and she and Ambrose both have her back. _

_ Smirking, and mildly worried that the dark-haired woman would completely ignore the kids’ recommendation, she decides to join the discussion. _

_ «Lilith,» she shouts, commanding, her voice high but dangerous, «if you’re planning to throw snow at me, know that I’ll be very cross!» _

_ A pause. _

_ «See?» Sabrina says, somewhat triumphantly. _

_ And then she sees her: Lilith’s blue pom pom hat peeking out from her log, then her face, flushed in red due to the cold, and her brow is knitted with determination. Narrowing her eyes, she steps out and starts to walk or, to better say, she starts to march in the driveway, toward Zelda, who just stares at her, bemused. _

_ Ambrose throws his snowballs from the left, hitting her arm, while Sabrina timidly throws hers from the right, hitting her legs by chance; Lilith is completely unbothered, and keeps marching, stomping her boots into the fresh snow. _

_ «Lilith-  no .» Zelda warns, curling herself on the chair as she attempts to back away from the woman. What is she thinking? Throwing snow at her? Her hands are empty. Perhaps hauling her up and forcing her to play? Certainly not. _

_ «Lilith-  yes .» Her wife replies with a wicked grin, roughly tugging at her blanket and making it fall off her shoulders. The book tumbles down somewhere. _

_ Zelda stills, completely caught off guard and she doesn’t even have the time to shudder that her wife has one arm shoved under her knees and the other wrapped around her back, squeezing her tight. _

_ «Put me down!» The redhead protests, glaring at her, kicking and shouting as she demands to be released. Anger rises up within her and explodes when she even hears her nephews giggle in delight - no, that doesn’t spark her rage, quite the contrary, to be honest: she feels herself smiling. _

_ Losing control over her body, her heart fighting and losing a battle with her brain, Zelda wraps her arms around Lilith’s neck and the woman smirks, marching steadily back into the yard. For a moment, the idea of asking her wife what she intends to do crosses the redhead’s mind, but far too quickly she realizes they are approaching the mound of fresh snow that piled up overnight under the big willow tree. When she feels Lilith leaning sideways, swaying her arms, she widens her eyes in pure horror. _

_ «What? You said I shouldn't throw snow at you, but you nobody said anything about throwing you in the snow, Zelda.» She justifies and sways even more, ready to do the deed. _

_ As soon as she feels herself losing balance and the hold beneath her knees disappear, Zelda clings tighter to her neck, refusing to let go. She doesn’t care to be the one who hit the cold snow first, as long as she’s managed to make Lilith follow the same destiny secondhand. _

_ She hisses in discomfort at the freezing particles melting instantly against her skin, dripping uncomfortably under her sweater. _

_ «Uh- I hate you.» She grunts, but finds it impossible to cover the pure mirth in her voice as she giggles and chuckles in tandem with Ambrose and Sabrina and Lilith. _

_ «No, you don’t.» Her wife replies, leaning down to peck a kiss on her mouth. Her lips are cold and chapped, but Zelda kisses her back, the waxy taste of her own lip-balm coaxing Lilith’s tongue as it seeps to the rim of her lips. _

_ Her eyes flutter close when her wife decides not to resist anymore and gives in to her pull, crashing onto her mouth and enhancing the contact. Zelda shudders, the freezing sensation of her clothes getting damp beneath her contrasting with the warmth of Lilith’s body above her, her tongue lighting sparkles into her mouth which burst into little fires crawling underneath her skin. _

_ «You’re right, I don’t.» Zelda concedes, breath slightly erratic. _

_ Lilith gazes down for a long time, clear blue meeting green, both shining at the winter sun. _

_ Then, a giggle. _

_ «Aunties, are we still playing?» Sabrina screeches with delight. _

_ Zelda hardly contains her laugh when she sees her wife’s face writhe into a horrified expression: she’s still not used to the children calling her like that. _

_ «Are we?» The redhead asks, cocking an eyebrow. _

_ Lilith huffs, smirking down at her. _

_ «I don’t know, are we?» She retorts, climbing off of her, reluctantly. She reaches out her hand and helps Zelda standing on her feet. «I sure am if you join my team.» _

_ The redhead narrows her eyes, considering the proposal for a moment. _

_ «You said team?» Ambrose asks in confirmation. «Nephews versus Aunties?» _

_ Lilith rolls her eyes and winces. _

_ «Kids versus adults.» She rectifies. «Prepare to get your asses kicked!» _

_ «Lilith, language!» Zelda scolds, eyes wide in shock. _

_ But her wife doesn’t listen, and neither do her nephews: in a blink, everyone scatters away, the kids hiding behind the hearse, her wife crouching behind the closest tombstone. Zelda rolls her eyes and huffs.  
Lilith pulls her down right in time to spare her from the snowball aimed at the face. _

She’d decided to walk to Mary’s cottage that day. It was an important one and she wouldn’t feel like eating at all, but her sister insisted, so she was lazily biting at a cupcake as she strolled in the woods; in the other hand, she was swinging the water bottle she had to finish within a couple of hours, on top of the cup of tea and the orange juice Hilda had also had forced her to gulp down at breakfast. She sighed: it would be a terribly uncomfortable morning. Wincing at the thought, Zelda glanced at her watch, gladly noticing she was perfectly in time.

After spending the afternoon at the cottage, only a couple of days prior, watching a Christmas movie while sipping cocoa and munching popcorns and talking - missing most of the movie in the process - they found out that they would have to go to the hospital in the same day, one hour apart: Mary for a brain scan, Zelda for a routine check and the monthly ultrasound. They decided it would be practical for them to go there together, both in need of some sort of comfort and craving just the minimal amount of sorority spirit. Truth was, neither of them considered that double appointment to the hospital a common occurrence.

So, when Zelda walked down the last section of path leading to the cottage, she had to remind herself to breathe and not get too excited - yes, there were going to the hospital, but there was no need to stop at the ER with a bloody nose because her blood pressure had spiked up.

Careful not to slip, she reached the door and knocked on the wood with her gloved knuckles. She didn’t produce much of a noise and, for a moment, she contemplated the idea of shouting Mary's name or knocking on the glass window, but then she heard Mary moving inside of the room, she heard some hurried movements, something being knocked down, a string of curses and then a grunt.

«Zelda, is that you?» The voice came muffled, but before the redhead could reply, Mary shouted again: «Come on in, it’s open!»

Zelda frowned, pushed on the door, and shook her head disapprovingly when she found out that it was, indeed, unlocked. It was true that Mary lived in a cottage in the middle of the forest, nobody in their right mind would come there in the middle of the winter, fighting the snow and the cold, but it was still a possibility and she was just being reckless. Zelda made a mental note to talk to her about that unlocked door matter.

Letting herself in, Zelda stomped her boots right outside to get dire of the excess of snow and wiped the soles carefully on the mat before entering. Immediately, she drifted toward the mantel, where a warm, inviting fire was crackling undisturbed.

«Mary?» She called, stretching her neck to see if she could spot the woman somewhere.

«I’m almost ready!» Again, the voice came muffled.

Zelda imagined she was in the bathroom and sighed, pulling her gloves off with her teeth and shoving them into her pocket. She was mildly sad, although not surprised, to see that the cottage had very little Christmas decorations: no tree, no stockings, no reindeer statues or garlands, just the polaroid Ambrose had given her of a few weeks ago, where they invited Mary over to celebrate the first snow.

Lilith used to love Christmas.

Mary… was different, and Zelda wasn’t supposed to make comparisons.

Sighing to herself, she uncapped the bottle and took a long sip. She started to gulp it down when Mary appeared from the small corridor and, throwing a quick glance at the woman, the water got stuck in the middle of her throat, some of it rising uncomfortably in her nose. Zelda struggled to play it cool, swallowing down in the most graceful way possible despite the choking coughs that inevitably made her whole body quake.

«Don’t die on me!» Mary chuckled, hands busy with tying up the wild mass of hair into a ponytail.

Zelda gasped for air, her free hand flying to her chest, and shook her head dismissively. She wanted to assure Mary that she was fine, but didn’t want to end up whining a pitiful or hoarse sob, so she just kept quiet… and watched: Mary was wearing a dark pair of jeans, a wooly sweater and wearing makeup, but aside for that, her face was bare. Beautifully so.

«Where are your glasses?» Zelda mumbled in a sort of daze, unable to avert her eyes: the last time she saw those blue pools without any barrier? She didn’t even remember and her heart was leaping. It hurt her even when she forced herself to keep her enthusiasm at bay.

Mary smiled and shrugged.

«I was feeling contacts today.» She said nonchalantly, marching toward the dumbstruck woman and leaning in to place a kiss on her cheek.

This time, Zelda was quick enough to pull herself out of her confusion and pecked the woman’s cheek back, right on the corner of her mouth.

There was a fire burning under her skin now, and she bowed her head to conceal the blush on her face - the temperature difference wouldn’t hold as an excuse.

«You look lovely, Mary.» Zelda mumbled sincerely. Yes, Mary was beautiful with her glasses on, they gave her a somewhat innocent demeanor, but without, well, she was positively gorgeous.

« _ Lovely _ ?» The brunette echoed, a tingle of mockery in her voice. «Said the one with the cape coat, looking like she came out from a photo shoot.»

Zelda looked down at herself, wincing because she had to agree with that statement. Completely ignoring the fact that they were going to a Hospital for very important appointments regarding their healths, the redhead had thought of Mary and chose her items of clothing with only her in her mind: so there she was with her knee Dr. Martens creme boots and the cape coat of the same color, carrying around a designer tote bag with all the documents filed in chronological order; and of course, she’d ironed and curled her hair, also paying particular care to her makeup. The only misplaced thing on her was perhaps the water bottle. 

«Too much?» She mumbled, lips pursed.

Mary shook her head and let out a peal of laughter.

«I’m just teasing.» She assured, walking past her and grabbing her bombed jacket and wearing it in a swift movement. «You’re gorgeous.» She assured, a smile never leaving her lips. «Ready to go?»

Bouncing her knee nervously, Zelda gulped down the last remnants of water in the bottle. Somewhat triumphantly, she crushed the plastic and threw that unshaped ball into the closest recycling bin of the ward.

She crossed her legs, biting at the inside of her cheek when she glanced up at the round clock that tickled incessantly from half an hour: she was expected in the other ward in twenty minutes and she just couldn’t be late. Why wasn’t Mary out of that room yet? There was something wrong?

Zelda hated the thought of being forced to stand up and go without her, rushing to her appointment, which was a highly plausible scenario if the doctor didn’t release her in the next ten minutes or so.

Finally, the door that had kept them separated until then opened and Mary emerged from it, smiling tiredly when her eyes caught Zelda’s expectant face.

The woman was rubbing her forehead, swallowing thickly, and she slowly walked toward Zelda, letting herself drop ungracefully on the chair next to her.

«Mary?» The redhead called softly, touching her arm with worry when she saw her exhale and closing her eyes, head lolled back and propped against the wall behind them.

«I have the nasties headache.» She mumbled, wincing. «They squished and probed and ran tests and put me into those loud machines and–» She trailed off, huffing.

«And?» Zelda tried, urging her to speak further. Not about the tests, of course, but about the results, if she had any already.

«The microfractures in the skull are healed completely.» Said Mary with a relieved sigh, blinking rapidly once or twice as the pain began to ebb away. «And everything looks normal on the inside as well.»

«It’s good news, isn’t it?» Zelda squeezed her hand reassuringly, not fully comprehending the dark shadow on her face. What mattered now was her health and she was fine, right?

«I wish I had an excuse to _not_ remember.» Mary breathed out frustratedly. «Instead it’s just me as if I’m _choosing_ not to.»

Zelda heaved a sigh. It made sense, in a way, but they made a deal, they were as happy as they could be and she was determined to cherish those moments and that happiness with everything she had.

«Don’t talk like that, Mary.» Zelda spoke softly, her other hand hovering up, pushing an escaped strand of dark hair behind her ear. «Stop blaming yourself, alright?»

Mary nodded, somewhat unconvinced.

«I’m sorry.» She whispered.

«Stop it.» The redhead interrupted without venom in her voice and a small smile bending her lips. «Now, will you accompany me? It was part of our deal.»

When her name was called, Zelda jumped out of her chair. Still clutching at Mary’s hand for some reason she’d forgotten about, the woman was abruptly pulled on her feet as well, and threw a confused glance at the redhead in front of her.

Zelda tilted her head to the side, grinning.

«That’s us.» She reminded, as if Mary hadn’t heard it.

«You want me to come with you?» The woman asked, blinking in confusion. She was worrying at her lip now, blue eyes wide and full of confused dread; she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, restlessly, then swallowed.

Zelda’s eager smile dropped almost instantly, her heart sinking when she realized Mary wasn’t prepared for that. Perhaps she was expecting to share the car ride together, maybe talking as they waited, but not actually going inside with her for the ultrasound. Yes, they hadn’t discussed that: it was implicit for Zelda, asking to accompany her for the visit actually included being there during the visit, yet perhaps it wasn’t granted for Mary.

«Only if you want to, of course.» The redhead tried to be reasonable, clenching her jaw to dissimulate the disappointment already plaguing her body.

Mary seemed to consider the proposition for a long moment and Zelda, unwillingly, squeezed her hand tighter, silently begging her to follow her inside. Was she being selfish? Perhaps. But she hoped that seeing the baby, and not just a rounded bump on her stomach, would make a difference: Zelda needed to know if Mary could actually feel something for the baby and that was the only way to find out. Would her face soften at the sound of those hurried heartbeats? Would she smile at the sight of the little hands and toes? She was possibly so close to finding out and, quite frankly, she was feeling scared, now.

«Spellman?» The doctor called again, cocking an eyebrow as she spurred to get a move, and Zelda nodded dismissively.

She had to go, she couldn’t wait. She sighed, ready to loosen her grip on Mary’s hand, when the woman tightened it, stepping forward.

«Yes, I want to.» She whispered, barely above a breath. Zelda smiled, hoping that her galloping heart wouldn’t cause any interference with the machines or bust some values.

Laying down on the examination bed, the lower hem of the white turtleneck rolled up under her breasts, a paper tissue tucked in the elastic band of her pants and legs straight, Zelda stood there, bouncing her ankles together nervously.

Saying that the gel was cold was an understatement, and she would be lying if she’d told someone that no, the pressure wasn’t uncomfortable on her distressed bladder. But did she care? Not much, because first she was eager to see her baby again and second she was there with Mary and all her doubts would soon have an answer, good or bad that it was.

She waited patiently for the doctor to adjust the machinery and she tried to regulate her breathing, accustomed by now to the routine she had learned to know.

«And...» The doctor said with a sympathetic grin. «There it is.»

Zelda released the breath she didn’t register holding and smiled helplessly at the black and white image flickering on the screen. Her sight got clouded immediately and she batted her lashes to ward away the tears: every time she’d seen the baby with the ultrasound, it was always giving that profile and due to the continuous staring at the small picture - Hilda had insisted on placing a copy of the photo on the fridge with a magnet since, apparently, was tradition - she knew it by heart. One last glance, and she lastly managed to turn her head and look at Mary.

The woman was sitting on a chair by the bed, but now she’d shifted on the edge, hands gripping at the padding beneath Zelda, trying to get as close as possible to the screen. She looked… _intrigued_.

Zelda stared at her, hardly concealing the amused grin that bloomed on her lips: Mary was watching, head tilted, lips slightly ajar, and gasped in delight when she noticed the smallest movement of one of the baby’s arms.

The redhead stood there, in perfect silence, watching in awe.

«Oh, would you look at that?» Mary finally breathed, eyes still glued to the image. 

Zelda was about to make some remark, but all her words died in her throat, and her brain froze when she felt something grabbing her hand, and it was Mary’s fingers eagerly latching to her own, filling the hollow spaces. The redhead hardly contained a relieved sigh.

«Beautiful, isn’t it?» She commented after a while, letting out a wet sob through her undying smile. She hadn’t turned her face back to the monitor yet, so Zelda wondered to whom she was referring for a moment.

«I think the baby has your nose.» Mary gasped, almost complacent for having noticed the detail.

Hilda had said the same, but Zelda had just shrugged off. Although hearing that from Mary, well, it was totally different.

«Really?» She chirped, tilting her head to the side, almost mirroring Mary.

The woman nodded, lifting the finger of her free hand to point, gently following the curve of the small button nose.

«Absolutely. See?»

And Zelda watched, for a moment, then shyly peeked at Mary with the corner of her eye and she was happier than ever to see that the woman was still so engaged with the baby’s image to completely ignore everything else. Zelda usually hated not being in the spotlight when Mary was around, but she could share her attention with the baby, in fact, she wanted to be like that.

«Everything looks fine.» The professional voice of the doctor grounded both back to reality. Zelda reminded herself to focus now, because that was the important part of the exam. «The baby is just slightly underdeveloped, but that’s to be expected due to the chronically high blood pressure.»

Zelda nodded, her other hand resting on top of the bump; she hated to be the cause of even a slight issue in her baby’s health, but it was something that couldn’t be helped.

«But everything is fine otherwise?» She wondered with a small voice.

«Perfectly.» The doctor confirmed with a reassuring smile. «You should be experiencing some movements in the following days.»

Zelda couldn’t contain a smile. She was eager to feel the baby move around inside of her for the first time, but she had to be patient because her previous experience had delayed the event. Would it happen with Mary around? She certainly hoped for it, especially if it would mean spending as much time as they could together to shrink any possibilities for it to happen during inconvenient occasions.

Zelda threw a tentative glance at Mary, and she bit her lip excitedly when she noticed Mary doing the same.

«Now, would you like to know the gender?» The doctor asked. «Last time it was turned, but now the baby is in full display- quite the exhibitionist.» She continued, a clearly fake thrill in her voice since this was literally her job and was probably doing the same things over and over again, trying to be nice with every anxious couple who stepped into her office. Zelda appreciated the effort nonetheless.

The redhead pondered for a long moment, unconsciously staring at the baby but without knowing what to look for exactly. Then she took a small breath and shook her head.

«No.» She said. «It’s alright like this.» Giving a single nod, she pressed her lips together. They hadn’t discussed it yet - her and Lilith - and the other time she’d won the head or tale game and actually asked the doctor to reveal the gender because Zelda, always the control-freak, wanted to know while Lilith was against it. Now that Lilith wasn’t there, Zelda had flipped an imaginary coin in her head and had decided that Lilith could get the upper best, this time around: a surprise it was.

«Are you sure?» Mary asked and her voice pulled the redhead out of her thoughts.

«I’m sure.» She confirmed with a soft smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	21. This one’s not pretend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

AN: Flashback in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 21 - This one’s not pretend**

_Almost believing, this one’s not pretend._

_Tapping her nails on the counter, and perched on her stool, Zelda huffs a frustrated sigh.  
It’s way past midnight and her wife is on her way home. She’s told her not to stay up, but Zelda decided against it and is currently waiting for her to come back. _

_She knows Lilith would be grumpy, and she has any rights to be: the conference lasted at least three hours more than scheduled and by the few random texts Zelda received - one informing that her wife would come home late, the other five or so of Lilith shouting in capitals - there has been some issue with one of the orators and they had to manage his speech and dozens of unimpressed people who demanded their money back. Honestly, it sounds like Hell and she’s sad that her wife had to endure that tedious situation. On top of that, of course, remains the fact that due to that horrible inconvenience, she’s skipped both lunch and dinner, and the small pack of crackers she’s slipped into her purse that morning wouldn’t be sufficient._  
_She’s both relieved that Lilith has decided to stop alongside the road for a sandwich on her way home - claiming she was absolutely starved and couldn’t resist a moment more with an empty stomach - but she is also sad that she has to wait longer for her wife’s homecoming._  
_Overall, Zelda feels sorry for her: she’s most certainly tired, disappointed, stressed, and even if she asked to accompany her that very morning, Zelda had to work at the mortuary and had to decline. Zelda feels guilty and wants to make up for her absence - and consequent lack of physical support - and also wishes to treat Lilith to make her forget that horrid day._

_Biting her bottom lip, she suppresses a grin and runs upstairs into their bedroom. She immediately dives into their shared closet, opening boxes and pushing clothes back and forth on their crutches, paying extra care not to make any loud noise because, at that unholy hour, everybody is already fast asleep and the last thing she wish for is someone poking their noses around the house - and especially in her and Lilith’s bedroom - right now… nor in the few hours to come._

_When she hears noises coming from downstairs, she hardly contains a smirk, and rushes in the corridor, engaging a little run until she reaches the top of the stairs. She grips the railing and presses her waist there, waiting for Lilith to flick the lights on. Zelda feels awfully exposed in that ridiculous emerald robe with a cut so low on the cleavage that reveals much more than it hides, but it’s all worth it when the lights go on and suddenly Lilith’s enraged expression transforms - it literally blooms._

_Looking up at the railing, she keeps removing her denim jacket, although extremely slow now, and steps out of her shoes, her eyes never leaving Zelda._

_«Welcome home.» She purrs, and despite her small voice, the silence helps carry those words to her wife. «How was your day?» She asks then, even if she knows already. Yet, who cares? It’s not the meaning that matters._

_«Horrible.» Lilith answers, almost automatically, walking toward the stairs. «Is that my robe?» She asks, eyebrow cocked as she hoists herself, climbing the first steps, her head turning so she can keep her gaze on her wife._

_«I can take it off, if you want.» Zelda replies, reaching out with her hand when the woman gets close enough._

_«Certainly is a good proposal.» Lilith agrees, nodding slightly._

_The redhead squeezed her hand and, immediately, their fingers intertwined. She barely resists the urge to lean down and kiss her lips and, instead, the corners of her mouth twitch downward into a pout, her head tilted to the side._

_«Was it really a horrible, horrible day?»_

_Lilith narrows her eyes, slightly taken aback._

_«Are you mocking me? It really was a bad day.» She points out, the tip of her tongue brushing against the front row of her teeth._

_«I’m not mocking.» Zelda assures, reducing her pout; then she bows her head just right, batting her eyelashes. «I’m luring you.»_

_Lilith’s eyebrows jump up to her hairline, her expression a mixture of surprise and thrill._

_«By babying me?» She offers, almost unimpressed, though a grin is blooming on her mouth._

_«By taking care of you.» Zelda rectifies._

_«Is that so?» The other inquiries, eyebrow cocked and a_ _mischievous_ _grin plastered on her lips._

_The redhead tugs gently on her hand and, without much convincing, Lilith follows her into their bedroom._

_In the stony silence of the room, Zelda is relieved to find out that her little surprise has erased almost all the tiredness on her wife’s features: she doesn’t look exhausted, she doesn’t act cranky, her eyes are not sleepy but very much awake. Instead of asking to cuddle in bed like any other day after a stressful event, when Zelda tells her to remove all her clothes and crawl on the bed, face down, Lilith happily obliges, stripping naked and shedding all her clothes on the floor._

_The redhead would normally complain, but she can’t bring herself to do it now, smirking at the sight of her wife laying on the sheets, blue eyes blown dark, peeking from above her shoulder, smirking back, waiting._

_Zelda slowly crawls on the bed beside her, the mattress sinking under her knees as she climbs on her back, and gently lowers herself on the back of her thighs. She hears Lilith sigh and she bites the inside of her cheek, knowing that she has probably - certainly - noticed that she has forgone everything under the green robe._

_Then Zelda pauses, head tilted to the side as she takes her wife in: the wild mass of dark hair free, scattered on the pillow and the small freckles dotting the taut skin of her back like a messy constellation of faraway stars, the bumps of her spine, the Venus holes and the soft swell of her buttocks, only partially covered by the flaps of the green robe Zelda is wearing._

_Her usually cold hands are not cold right now, and when she rests them on the small of Lilith’s back, she knows that the hum that escapes her wife’s lips is not of discomfort but one of bliss; she presses her thumbs into the soft flesh deliberately slow, loosening the muscles with small movements, her pads moving in circles, sliding on her skin with just the right amount of friction._

_«I should come home late more often.» Lilith whispers again, her voice low and relaxed, only partially muffled by the pillow._

_«No.» Zelda croons, averting her eyes from her ministrations, just for a second, to look at her wife as her lids flutter close and her lips twitch up in delight. «This is your reward for being good today, without smashing too much stuff.» She teases, knowing Lilith can become a little physical with inanimate objects when something doesn’t go her way. It’s a nasty habit Zelda does not approve of, and her wife has promised to keep it under control - sometimes, however, it seems just impossible._

_«Ugh- come on,» Lilith mumbles, her brow knitting for a moment, «I just broke one pencil, that’s it.» She confesses and Zelda gasps softly, faking shock for the broken promise. She’s not angry, though, it’s much less than she was expecting._

_«I can ignore the pencil.» Zelda croons and slowly moves upward, thumbs rubbing at each side of her spine, fingers brushing on her sides, greedily collecting goosebumps on their wake._

_When she reaches the shoulders, the redhead leans slightly down, the apex of her thigh shifting forward against the swell of the other woman’s buttocks, bringing their bodies even closer to one another. She can see Lilith peeking over her own shoulder, throwing a minxy grin at her, but Zelda smiles dismissively, continuing to rub at her skin. She can feel where her muscles are the most tight, right between her shoulder blades, so she pays extra care there, applying the correct amount of pressure with her digits in a way that it won’t hurt, but would give enough to procure some benefit._

_«Feels divine.» She purrs, voice so low Zelda can feel the words reverberating underneath her fingers._

_She smiles, tutting disapprovingly when she sees, and feels, Lilith reaching out with her hands and grabbing her knees, fingers gripping there as she starts to rub blindly upward her thighs, shifting on the back, so close to her own behind._

_«This is about you.» She scolds with a soft gurgule, gently lifting off her body to force Lilith to drop her hands. When she does, collecting her arms - this time bending her elbows, hands to either side of her head, close to her face - Zelda lowers again on the back of her wife’s thighs, purposely shifting to adjust herself._

_Lilith growl frustratedly, fidgeting under her and her skilled fingers still working on her muscles._

_«Then why are you sitting naked on my back?» She asks in a whisper, the last remnants of blue in her eye peeking at the corner, boring on Zelda._

_The redhead shrugs dismissively, the smirk on her lips never fading._

_«I don’t know, why do you think I’m sitting naked on your back?» She purrs teasingly, to which Lilith growls again, white teeth scraping at her own knuckle and she fights the urge to roll on her back, or touch, or do something at all. Does Zelda plan to just give her a massage - she’s not complaining - or does she have something else in mind? Can she hope for more? It’s stressful, frustrating._

_«Cut the riddles, I’ve had a long day.» She huffs, attempting to roll, but Zelda’s thighs keep her in place, already knowing her intentions._

_«I know that.» She replies softly. «That’s why I’m treating you.»_

_«Hardly.» Lilith rebuks. «It was relaxing but now it’s just- uncomfortable .»_

_«Why is that?» The redhead retorts, hands sliding to the nape of her neck, fingers digging deep into her hair, nails scraping lightly at her scalp._

_« Zelda- » The other almost hisses her name behind clenched teeth, as if that single word can explain everything, as if her wife is stating the obvious, and it’s a warning, almost dangerous, but Zelda knows it’s not actually a warning, and Lilith is not actually dangerous, so the redhead gets an intake of breath, swallowing, trying to keep her own yearning at bay._

_«Keep quiet.» She admonishes with a whisper, softly clawing at her neck now, and then trailing down until she reaches the middle of her back, pushing her nails into her skin in a way that she knows will make Lilith squirm and hiss in rapture._

_Splaying her fingers there, she reaches at each side of her torso, shushing the other woman whenever she’s about to mumble something, and instead bites on her knuckles again, restraining a moan when Zelda’s deft fingers slid underneath her body. Lilith arches her back off the sheets to grant her better access, and the redhead leans forward, clothed chest almost brushing against her back now, while her hands cup Lilith’s breasts, knead at the heated flesh there, twirls each bundle between her fingers until her wife is a squirming mess beneath her._

_«Zelda, you’re being unfair.» She hisses, her voice cracking as she hiccups over her own, erratic breaths._

_The redhead smirks, placing a wet kiss in the crease between her shoulders._

_«Aren’t you enjoying this?» She purrs, hot breath crashing against the heated skin of her back._

_« Please– » She hisses, head turning desperately, eyes wide almost in panic._

_Sensing the frustration from her - the teasing turned into plain discomfort - Zelda backs away from her, sitting back on her heels and then lifting herself on her knees, releasing Lilith’s body from her clamping thighs. Her wife shudders a long breath, blinks a few times as if to recollect herself, and then, finally, rolls onto her back._

_She’s looking at Zelda through hooded eyes, neck flushed just like her chest, nipples pebbled, breaths hurried._

_The redhead stares at her with a complacent smirk, clearly proud of her work. When she lowers down, this time she straddles her hips, gripping at her waist to steady herself, shifting on top of her body until their centres are painfully close, almost perfectly aligned, but not just yet._

_Lilith watches, breathing through parted lips, and reaches up with her hands, undoing the buttons with shaky fingers until the robe falls apart, the fabric shifting away from Zelda’s white skin. The redhead lets her watch and touch without moving, lids fluttering close when one of her wife’s fingers press against her sternum, climbing up to her neck, almost wrapping around it._

_Zelda heaves a guttural moan before leaving her waist and traps her hand with her own, fingers intertwining; immediately, both move to do the same with the other until they’re holding hands, fingers clinging to the other’s._

_Lilith sits up effortlessly, beckoned up by the gentle tug of her wife’s arms. Their eyes drift close when their mouths collide into an eager kiss that it’s all teeth and tongues and fight for predominance, but neither of them can do much more than squirming helplessly, bodies searching for heat, Zelda restraining Lilith’s hands and Lilith doing the same with Zelda’s._

_«I love you.» The redhead breathes against the other’s lips, swollen and pink now as they chase her own, then drop on her jaw, bestow hurried pecks there, moving below, suckling at her pulsepoint until she squirms away._

_«And I, you.» Lilith replies, continuing her assault, spurred when Zelda tilted her head backward, granting her more access to her neck._

_«I wanted to take care of you,» the redhead smirks, voice quivering, «to make you relax and worship you, and-»_

_«And instead,» the brunette pricks at the tense skin of her clavicole with her teeth, «you got me all worked up.» She smiles against the red halo she’s left, soothing it with the tip of her tongue._

_«I guess I brought this on myself.» Zelda reasons, mirth in her voice as she fists the hair at the nape of her neck, beckoning her wife up again, claiming her lips with bruising force. Their bodies flush together, sharing heat, and they kiss until their lungs scream for air and they’re forced to part._

_«Are you complaining?» Lilith inquires, cocking an eyebrow allusively; of course she knows the answer already, but she won’t renounce at the pleasure to hear it from the redhead’s lips._

_«Most certainly not.» The woman replies promptly, shifting on her thighs, even closer to her, impossibly so, finally aligning their bodies in the right way. Zelda sighs against her mouth, breaths shuddering and bleeding into wet sobs as they hold each other tight and tighter as if they’re trying to melt into one another._

_Zelda wraps her arms around her neck. Lilith’holds her by the waist, her elbows latching perfectly in the soft crease of her hips like pieces of a puzzle. They move against each other, tentatively at first; then another kiss; another thrust; another moan lost into the other’s mouth._

_Despite Lilith’s exhaustion, neither of them sleep a blink, only drifting into slumber when the first lights of dawn start to seep into the room through the blinders. They keep kissing and holding and stroking each other’s bodies, as far as their hands would go, knowing, in their hearts, that they would hold and kiss and take care of the other, every single time they wish for any of those things. What they don’t know, of course, is that destiny has something else in store for them and by believing they have all the time in the world, they are inevitably wrong. But no sooner than a few years._

«Mary?»

The woman looked past her shoulders through the mirror, as if she could see Zelda beyond the stall’s door of the hospital restroom.

«Yes?» She called, rinsing her hands and collecting both their purses and their coats as she waited for the other woman to emerge from the stall.

«Are you busy right now?» The redhead’s voice was slightly muffled, reverberating into the confined place.

«No?» Mary frowned. «I have a few kids coming over this evening I have to tutor, otherwise I’m free.»

«How do you feel about going to Dr. Cee's?» Zelda asked, lowering her voice as she stepped out of the stall, pulling at the hem of the white turtleneck to straight it over her pants.

«Hungry?» The other woman smirked, already knowing the answer. «I thought your sister had to force you to eat your breakfast.»

«Yeah, well-» Zelda let the sentence hang, turning her attention to the sink to wash her hands. Then shrugged. «I was nervous.»

«Why were you nervous?» Mary wondered, handing over the purse. «You feared something could be wrong with the baby?»

Zelda worried down her lip, pausing for a moment.

«Not exactly.» She whispered sincerely, and followed Mary out of the restroom.

«Then why were you?»

Walking down the hospital aisle side by side, doctors, and nurses marching everywhere from one room to the other like busy bees, Zelda felt incredibly alone, almost as if everybody was about to stop and listen to her and judge her words.

«I thought–» She heaved a sigh, shaking her head. «I _feared_ ,» she corrected, «you’d feel detached.» Staring straight ahead, unable to look at Mary right now, Zelda kept walking. «I know you had all the rights to feel that way since _this_ is not something you wished for, as things turned out to be, but I won’t lie to you: I would’ve been disappointed, and- sad.»

«Stop it.» Mary said promptly, her voice a perfect balance between a plea and disapproval. «I know things are complicated, but I care, of course I do.» The woman assured, gently grabbing her upper arm to coax Zelda into turning.

«You care?» Zelda echoed, timidly lifting her gaze into her expectant blue eyes.

«I was- uncertain, at first.» The woman confessed, sighing. «But I thought I made it clear by now that–» Her breath hitched. «Zelda, I’m so sorry.»

Zelda stared at her with her mouth slightly ajar. Mary had claimed she wanted everything she had to offer a few weeks prior, but she wasn’t sure it would include the baby issue in its entirety. Now Mary said she cared; she cared for her baby. Mary wanted everything and she meant it.

«No, I’m sorry.» The redhead heaved a shaky breath, unable to suppress the smile that was now creeping on her lips, contrasting perhaps, with the tears pricking at her eyes. «I shouldn’t have doubted you.»

«I have to work better on showing emotions and feelings.» Quipped Mary, trying to lighten the mood.

Zelda was grateful for that, and nodded.

«Take all the time you need, Mary.» She assured, pushing the button for the elevator. «You know I’ll be here waiting for you.» She ignored all the multiple meanings those words could imply, or maybe not and she hoped they could carry a promise for the future: somebody had to come back to her, one way or the other - Lilith, Mary, did it really matter at this point?

Mildly irritated already by the annoying tune that kept playing inside the elevator in repeat, Zelda glanced up at the digital numbers signaling the floors. That ride was incredibly slow, but luckily they were almost at groundlevel: they would climb into Mary’s car, drive to Dr. Cerberus' diner, share a meal and maybe plan their next date. Was she free on the weekend? What about Christmas day, did Mary have plans? And for New Year? Would she enjoy their annual marathon of movies and junk food waiting for midnight just to make noise and watch the fireworks coming from Riverdale in the night sky?

There was a faint flicker of the lights, then a jolt, not a rough one, but enough to be felt. Zelda reached instinctively for the railing, and throwing a glance over Mary, she noticed that the woman had done the same. 

Then the elevator quaked a little, something roared in the tunnel above their heads, wires squeaked and, lastly, the elevator stopped.

Did they reach their floor? That was the most unpleasant and disturbing stop in the history of elevators. But then why didn’t she hear the familiar _bing_ of the gates sliding open to let them out?

Zelda swallowed, glancing up at the digital numbers above the door once again, and getting a sharp intake of breath when she noticed that not only one number was lit, but two, most certainly signaling they were currently in between two floors.

«We’re stuck.» She mumbled with a shallow breath.

Mary glanced up herself, realizing she couldn’t say anything to disagree because they were, in fact, currently trapped in a stuck elevator. She nodded faintly, biting the inside of her cheek and slowly dropping her gaze on Zelda who was already fidgeting on the spot, fingers clawing at the turtleneck, pulling at the high collar.

«Don’t worry: it can happen,» Mary mumbled, managing to offer her a smile, «we’re fine.» She attempted to step closer, eager to give some comfort, but the redhead was having none.

«We are _not_ fine.» She retorted, stepping toward the panel, studying it with crazed eyes. She started to push on the emergency one, jaw falling slack when she noticed it was loose and hardly doing anything to call some help. «The bell doesn’t ring.» She whined, her voice hoarse. «Mary, it doesn’t ring!»

She didn’t care to look panicky because she was incredibly worried, and she didn’t care to be begging for her help, because she was exactly the person she needed and wanted: no one else but Mary. It was a call for help? Maybe - most certainly.

She swallowed thickly, gripping the railing again when she saw the dark-haired woman fishing inside her purse and pulling out her phone.

«It’s fine,» Mary assured, unlocking the device, «I’ll just- call for... somebody.»

Zelda’s heart sunk at the woman’s gloomy expression, getting more helpless with every instant that passed by.

«There’s no reception, is it?» The redhead nodded, the tip of her tongue pressing against the roof of her mouth, fists going to rest on her hips, head thrown back. Sure, it made sense: they were stuck inside a metallic box hanging in a vertical tunnel made of concrete, hence hoping for a signal was utopian to say the least.

She released a frustrated growl and started to pace back and forth, tree steps, that was all the small place would allow her. She wasn't claustrophobic, but that situation was not pleasant _at all_.

«No, there’s no reception.» Mary confirmed, letting her phone drop into her bag again. «But we’re in a stuck elevator that belongs to a hospital: they’ll need it, someone will figure out something’s wrong.» She reasoned, trying to sound logical.

A part of Zelda knew she was right, but the other was just feeling anxious and irrational: what if they got stuck in there forever? What if they would run out of oxygen? What if the wires broke and they would fall - how many floors? - down the shaft? Would they survive it? Would her baby be safe? What if Lilith hit her head and forgot everything all over again?

«It’s going to be fine.»

Mary’s voice echoed inside her ears and when she started to get her vision back, all those horrible futures faded into the sharp features of the face she knew so well.

Zelda reached out to latch her fingers around her wrists as the brunette cupped her face, anchoring her, forcing her to look into the blue of her eyes, incredibly calm, despite the situation.

« _It’s going to be fine_.» The redhead repeated automatically and tried to mimic Mary’s breathing, feeling better already.

«Good girl.»

Normally she would have rolled her eyes at the praise, but firstly, she couldn’t bring herself to completely overcome the anxiety just yet, and secondly, Mary’s soft voice was all she needed right now, working as a balm to soothe all the sharp angles of her agitated spirit.

«Now what?» She breathed out, fingers still gripping at her wrists.

«We sit down and wait.» Mary offered, thumbs stroking at her cheekbones. «The fact that we’re already inside a hospital doesn’t give you the right to make yourself sick and have one of your bloody crises on me again.» She quipped, smiling reassuringly. «There’s no need to panic, alright?»

«Alright.» Zelda agreed, heaving a slow breath.

Mary released her only when she was sure the redhead had calmed down, if not completely, but most at least, and gently tugged her by the arm until they reached the wall of the elevator at the opposite side of the door, a mirror above their heads. They settled down their purses and bags and Mary helped Zelda lower to the floor, then sat beside her, both clutching their coats to their fronts as blankets - of course, on top of the unpleasant situation, it was getting extremely cold in there.

«How did she take the Hawthorne news? Sabrina, I mean.»

Zelda pushed back her hair after wearing her cape coat and turned her head to the side, looking at the woman at her right. She was expecting to feel awkward - talking and thinking about the assault always made her feel strange - and it certainly was when she had to talk with her niece, but somehow with Mary everything was different; everything, literally. And she was glad for the distraction.

«She wasn’t surprised, just enraged it had happened to me.» Zelda replied sincerely, shaking her head drearily. «Apparently he was creepy around the majority of female teachers and some of the senior girls as well… but never actually acted so physically before me.» Zelda let out a bittersweet chuckle. «I’m happy it happened to me and not to anyone else, is that weird? If I think even for a moment that he could have targeted Sabrina, I–»

«He didn’t, Zelda.» The woman reminded her. «And it’s over. He’s out of your lives for good.» She paused, then heaved a sharp sigh and winced. «I’m sorry I brought this up.»

«I’m not upset.» The redhead assured. «Not much. Also, I need to talk about something, this stupid tune won’t stop playing.» She grunted, wondering why, of all the things, the speaker didn’t break.

«Sabrina told me about moving to a private school, the other day.»

«Hilda suggested it.» She winced, shifting lightly, the hard metal unforgiving on her back. «But with Hawthorne gone, there’s no need for her to move in the middle of the academic year, especially when she’s off to college this very Summer.» Zelda hardly suppressed the pout that emerged on her lips every time she thought about her niece gone from home for months to no end.

«She’ll be fine, Zelda.» Mary offered.

«Oh, I know she will.» The redhead agreed with a small chuckle. «But I won’t, that’s for sure.» She sobbed. «We’ve never been apart for more than two days, and–»

«Happy thoughts.» The other woman interjected with an eager voice, grabbing her wrist to draw her full attention. «You’ll be fine.» She reminded her with a reassuring smile.

«Yes. Sabrina’s happiness it’s all that counts.» Zelda mumbled, nodding to herself. She used to repeat that in her head every time she felt the panic building within her, which happened often lately, since her niece had started to talk nonstop about all the college she applied to - each and every one of them too distant from home.

She took a long breath, filling her lungs with as much air they could store, then paused, because the illogical thought of stealing all the oxygen popped back into her mind and only Mary’s steady breathing beside her was able to wave it off.

She released the air slowly, blowing on her hands as she tried to warm up her fingers, and grunted frustratedly when it brought little to no relief at all. How much longer before anyone realized one elevator was stuck? Would they guess there were people inside too? What if they just assumed it was empty since no one still asked for help through the emergency bell?

She shifted uncomfortably, trying to rearrange her legs so she wouldn’t lean most of the weight on her already sore lower back, but all her attempts resulted in failures. Crossing her arms and burying her cold hands under the cape, she distracted herself by listing all the things she had to do once back home, but that tune just kept ringing inside her ears and, for a moment, she seriously thought she would go insane.

«Zelda?» The woman called softly, lifting her knees up, herself searching for a more comfortable position. «It’s been only ten minutes, you know.»

«Are we sure they’re looking for us?» The redhead huffed. «What if they decide to have it fixed tomorrow or in a week? They don’t know that we are in here.» She contemplated screaming for a moment, but who would hear her voice?

«It’s unlikely: this is a hospital, they need the elevators.» Mary said pragmatically.

«Still-» She mumbled, and again winced, her neck also aching, now. She tried to stretch the muscles there and move her head, but ended up only banging her nape on the metal wall behind her with a dull thud that had her wince more.

Helpless, she curled on herself - as much as the swell of her stomach would allow - and just sighed, shivering.

«Zelda?» Again, the brunette called and again, the redhead looked at her, sideways this time, sporting a pitiful expression that had Mary smile. «Take off your coat.»

Zelda tilted her head slowly, cocking an eyebrow in an undefined smirk. Was she making fun of the situation? Was it some kind of joke she didn’t get? No, the woman was dead serious.

«I beg your pardon?» She scoffed, clueless. «Mary, I’m cold already.»

Mary nodded, bowing her head a little, the free curls at the end of her ponytail falling on one shoulder. A bright smile appeared on her lips, but it wasn’t cocky, nor mischievous, just a smile.

Zelda stared at her hand when she outstretched her arm, covering the small distance between their bodies.

«I know you’re cold, and you’re also aching everywhere.» She pointed out.

The redhead didn’t even have the time to blush and shake her head dismissively, nor contemplate her poor attempt to cover her discomfort that Mary wiggled her fingers, gesturing to get closer.

«Come here, I’ll hold you.» She whispered softly, without any pressure, just a proposal, a wish to help. « _If_ you let me.»

Zelda released the breath she was holding. For months, she’d wished for nothing else than to hug and to be hugged by her, and now she was supposed to let it happen, finally, out of those bad circumstances? Just because Mary felt obliged to ease her discomfort? But then again, was Mary really obliged to do something like that for her? Maybe Mary _wanted_ to hold her. Maybe that awful situation just gave her the opportunity to gather enough courage to ask for it.

Zelda had made a secret promise to herself to respect her timing. So she didn’t pressure Mary into anything, the first kiss they shared, under the mistletoe, was Mary’s initiative and that one was too. It was working: she was getting close and comfortable with her own terms. Why did Zelda feel the need to jeopardize everything was a mystery even to herself.

She swallowed thickly, hinted a smile, then nodded.

Mary gestured to scoot a little further and she complied, taking off her cape coat while the other woman shifted closer and settled behind her back, one leg on each side. Zelda waited patiently, her heart drumming incessantly in her chest, then slender fingers wrapped around her upper arms and tugged, Mary easily beckoning her whole body into leaning down, so that her back was resting on the woman’s front, and not satisfied with the arrangement, yet, she threw her coat on top of them both and wrapped her arms securely around her torso.

Zelda felt herself blush profusely: the heat radiating from Mary behind her, her coat keeping them both warm like a blanket, her arms enveloping her.

She felt trapped and unable to move, and yet it was the best sensation she felt in months. She was confined, but also so alive and freer and anchored than ever.

«Comfy?»

Zelda nodded messily, humming in agreement, struggling to keep a different kind of shivers at bay when she felt her warm breath crushing on the nape of her neck. This was a bad idea. This had been the worst idea in all her life.

Or maybe not.

Zelda immediately stilled when she felt a bubbly sensation crawling under the taut skin of her belly. Faint at first, so much in fact, that she thought she was still cold, but then it got clearer, and it got stronger, and the ticklish feeling became a distinct flounder and finally a wiggle, and a tug below.

Her breath hitched and she gasped silently, every word and sound trapped at the base of her throat.

«You really are hungry.» Quipped Mary behind her, her chest vibrating with a chuckle.

Zelda shook her head, too excited to sulk about the remark.

«It wasn’t my stomach.» She pointed out, and even though she wanted to make it sound scolding - seriously, she’d mistaken _that_ for a grumbling stomach? - but she couldn’t and her voice came out light, carrying all her awe.

«Was it the baby, then?» Asked Mary with an excited gasp, her head poking from her left shoulder now, as if she was trying to see the activity below the coat.

«It was.» Zelda nodded, sniffing and blinking rapidly for her sight was getting blurred with tears. «The baby first movements in a stuck elevator.» She chuckled. At least it happened when Mary was around, perhaps even _because_ Mary was around. «Wait until I tell Hilda, and _oh-_ Sabrina is going to freak out.»

«I’m freaking out.» Mary retorted, voice full of mirth, and the redhead was helpless when she felt her hands unclutching her body, snaking on the swell of her belly until they came to rest on top of it, next to hers.

Not that she needed any, but the woman hadn’t asked for permission to touch her - and the baby - and Zelda felt incredibly proud of the accomplishment. Another milestone to check off the imaginary list to erase the distance between them.

«You’re good?» Mary whispered, fingers playing on the wooly fabric of her sweater, eager to feel more and plainer.

The baby, however, seemed to be done with its performance for the day, only giving a sneak peek as its debut. Zelda, still, couldn’t find it in herself to feel disappointed. Unconsciously nesting further into Mary’s embrace, her neck almost came to rest on the woman’s shoulder. She smiled and nodded softly.

«Never been better.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	22. All the right keys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

AN: Flashback in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 22 - All the right keys**

_It’s past opening time at Dr. Cerberus and way past Sabrina’s bedtime, but on the other hand, it’s summer and it’s a Saturday night evening, so Zelda thought they might allow the transgression and stay for the occasion: Hilda’s boyfriend has ordered something he plans to use every other weekend in the diner and, naturally, attracted by the novelty, Lilith has insisted on staying and help install the device._

_Glaring as her niece who has tried yet again to snatch the half-finished glass of beer from her hands, Zelda sighs and rolls her eyes at the umpteenth yell coming from where Lilith and Dr. Cee are currently discussing, both deep entangles in cables, her wife waving half of the torn instruction manual, Cee the other._

_They acted pacifically only when they moved the tables to make room for the device, but then the fight started when Cee insisted on just installing the thing, while Lilith urged to read the manual from top to bottom, first.  
_ _Zelda and Hilda exchanged a glance, and both silently agreed on letting them vent and yell at each other just like they’re doing now. Zelda had poured herself a beer and coaxed Sabrina into sliding in a booth with her._

_«Just the foam?» Her niece pleads again, eyes wide and prominent pout on her lips. Zelda would give in, normally, but not under those circumstances._

_«There’s no foam anymore, and you’re only fourteen.» She scolds gently implying her young age though she has already let her niece taste wine from her glass various times and let her take a sip from her champagne flute at New Year._

_«I’m bored.» Sabrina whines, slumping with her whole body against her shoulder._

_Zelda sighs sharply, takes the glass to her lips, and downs the last remnants of beer. Yes, this should’ve been Sabrina’s transgression and she was supposed to have fun with her family, but instead, they’re sitting in a booth of an empty diner with Hilda diligently swiping the floors while Cee and Lilith yell and fight over a device installation. It’s absurd._

_«How’s your summer project going?» Zelda asks then, looking down at the wincing expression of the teenager on her shoulder with a grin._

_«Ugh, Auntie Zee, can we talk about something else?» Sabrina lets out another loud whine. «This is supposed to be fun! It’s our family night out–»_

_«That it is.» The redhead sighs, voice thick with sarcasm, even before the girl has finished the sentence, she glances once again at her wife. Cocking up an eyebrow, she notices they seem to have reached a sort of agreement._

_«The kids stopped fighting?» Hilda quips, emerging from behind the counter._

_«Ambrose is not even here, how can we- oh .» Sabrina hardly suppresses a chuckle, readdressing her attention as well when, finally, psychedelic lights start to float around the diner, dotting every available surface: the tables, the floor, the walls, even Zelda and Sabrina and Hilda, and they all squeal in delight._

_«Ah- I was right!» Lilith cries out triumphantly, spinning an Allen key in her fingers and she strikes a pose, watching Cee from above. The man, still crouching down, only emits a lament, going back to settle all the cables more neatly so that no one can trip over them - it’s only temporary of course, but one can never be too careful._

_«Are you done with the kindergarten now, can I have my wife back?» Zelda scolds playfully, folding her arms above her chest._

_«He started it!» Lilith protests, theatrically swaying her hips while she walks toward the redhead’s booth. «Now that it’s all settled, care to join me?»_

_«Over my dead body.» Zelda scoffs, eagerly shaking her head and pushing Lilith’s hand back when offered._

_«Oh, so you’re playing hard to get, I see.» The brunette nods to herself, a smirk creeping on her lips, then she turns her head just slightly, locking glances with Cee. «Hit it. The one I told you.»_

_«They’re friends again now?» Hilda asks, utterly amused, joining the booth, although sitting down on the other side._

_«I stopped asking questions when they almost pulled each other’s hair at the barbecue and then cooked the steaks together like besties.»_

_«Right.» Hilda agrees, propping her chin on her hands, determined to enjoy the forthcoming show._

_Zelda shakes her head and leans back in the booth, eyes locking on her wife as she jogs back to Cee, snatching the microphone he’s offering and wincing when it screeches, startling everyone, five people jerking and covering their ears._

_«Sorry!» Lilith calls, then moistens her lips when some dots appear on the wall as the projector screened there. She turns to it and stares at the empty surface, the right heel of her boot tapping rhythmically on the floor while Lilith gathers the tempo and waits for her cue._

_Zelda frowns, completely captured by her wife’s dramatic performance, and she would laugh at the small wrinkles in her face as she focuses, but then she recognizes the familiar notes growing in the air, and her breath hitches: Lilith has been obsessed with that song as of late, and sometimes just plays it randomly simply to piss her off, singing it cheekily when they get ready in the morning, mangling the southern accent with her poor attempts to recreate it; the truth is Zelda has grown fond of it and it never ceases to make her smile._

_So when Lilith starts to sing “Island in the Stream”, diligently following the karaoke lead, the redhead can’t help but smile at her, tilting her head to the side._

_«_ Baby when I met you, there was a peace unknown _...»_

_«Oh, I’m so going to record this.»_

_She barely registers Sabrina shifting beside her, pulling out her phone and tapping on the record button. Is she going to keep it and use it as blackmail in the future? That would be smart if Lilith was the type of person to be embarrassed. Maybe she wants to send it to Ambrose… or maybe she just wants to cherish it. Yes, she has to remember to tell Sabrina to send the video to her, once at home._

_Zelda giggles when she sees Lilith getting bored of the karaoke quite immediately and, spinning on her heels, she decides just to follow the music randomly and sing, and she’s incredibly precise, as if she’s Kenny Rogers himself, hitting every note and word in the right way._

_«_ I was soft inside, there was something going on _...»_

_Hilda is clapping along, Sabrina is swaying beside her and Zelda can only watch, her smile never-dying when her wife makes it through the first verse without a single mistake and then she’s walking, she’s approaching, and she’s incredibly and dangerously close._

_«No.» The redhead warns promptly, mirth in her voice, even before giving her the chance to do anything. «Lilith, no.» She repeats, louder and firmer, trying to contrast the music in the background._

_Lilith glares but keeps singing, reaching the second verse, where she’s supposed to have a backup from someone singing Dolly Parton’s verses for the duet._

_«_ ou do something to me, that I can’t explain, hold me closer, and I feel no pain _-» The woman stomps her foot and loses a verse. Zelda promptly shakes her head._

_«Stop it, I won’t do it.»_

_«_ Tender love is blind, it requires a dedication– _» Lilith sighs loudly into the microphone and the horrible noise reverberates from the speakers. «Come on, Ginger, don’t make me sing by myself!»_

_«No.» She smiles back, stubbornly. Zelda doesn’t even know if she’s just reclining because she doesn’t want to sing or because it’s too funny to tell anything else by now and miss the opportunity of having her wife act like a petulant child._

_«Brina!» Lilith whines, shooting wide, sad eyes at the lens of the camera. «Help me out, here!»_

_«No.» Zelda averts her eyes from both her wife and her niece, trying to look ahead, but there she is, Hilda, silently encouraging her to go for it with one of those bright grins of hers - her smile hasn’t changed a bit since she was a child - that Zelda can’t secretly refuse, so she just lets her lids fall, holding her chin high._

_«Please, Auntie Zee?» Sabrina pleads then, and when she peeks, her head is halfway hidden behind her phone, so only her big, brown eyes shine at her in the dark, the psychedelic dots running over her cheeks. «Pretty please?»_

_That is a cheap shot: she can’t say no to Sabrina._

_She heaves a long sigh, and her head starts to bob on its own accord as the cue for the chorus hits and fades._

_«_ I can’t live without you if the love was gone, everything is nothing if you’ve got no one _,» her voice is low at first, but can’t help smile when she hears the little delighted squeal from the girl beside her, so she stores a little more air and raises her voice, «_ and you just walk in the night, slowly losing sight of the real thing _.»_

 _«_ But that won’t happen to us, _» Lilith echoes, backing her in the duet, «_ and we got no doubt _.»_

 _«_ Too deep in love, and we got no way out. _»_ _She snaps her eyes open with a sigh then, still shaking her head, but now she’s looking and smiling at Lilith’s face._

_«Are you getting this?» Hilda asks eagerly._

_«Of course!» Sabrina answers, nodding._

_When Lilith steps slightly back and offers her hand, the redhead takes it, smirking at her. They’re up the second later, the microphone held between them, Zelda’s hand covering Lilith’s as they sway together to the music._

_«_ We start and end as one _.» The dark-haired woman grins, the tip of her nose brushing against her wife’s._

 _«_ In love forever _.» Zelda giggles. «_ We can ride it together, uh-uh _-» She sings, wiggling her hips to follow the rhythm._

 _«_ Makin’ love with each other, uh-uh- _» Lilith adds, mirroring the redhead’s moves._

_«Saucy!» Hilda cries out, making the girl across the table chuckle._

_By the time the chorus hits again, no one knows whether they’re still singing the right words or making them up - whispering things in each other’s ears, secrets that are only meant to be for the two of them - or even if they’re dancing, completely forgetting about the karaoke, Zelda spinning when Lilith makes her, holding her hand._

_«_ Island in the stream, _» Lilith sings again, and she’s yelling so much the microphone isn’t needed, held low beside her body, forgotten, «_ that is what we are. No one in between, how can we be wrong. _»_

 _«_ Sail away with me, to another world _.»_

_Lilith spins her again and tugs, until her body is flushed against her, Zelda’s back clutch to the woman’s front as she clutches tightly to her wife, eliciting a giggle from her lips._

_«_ And we rely on each other, uh-uh- _»_

 _«_ From one lover to another, uh-uh- _»_

_They’re all singing together now, voices overlapping, and Cee is clapping and so is Hilda and her niece is laughing happily, still with her phone between her hands, perched on the table with her elbows to have a better angle._

_While the music fades, Zelda is panting in her wife’s arms, and Lilith is also panting, but she looks just so happy and complacent that the redhead simply plants a kiss on her mouth, stealing even her last breath._

_Taken by surprise, Lilith clumsily returns the kiss, chuckling on her lips, breathing and squeezing her body, not entirely sure what to do._

_«Perfect!» Announces Sabrina, more to herself though, since no one is really paying attention to the recording anymore. Beaming, she taps a few times on her phone and enters her conversation with Ambrose, typing the caption “look at these two dorks!” before sending the video to her cousin._

_«No posting it on social media, Brina.» Lilith warns, pointing her forefinger at the girl acting in lieu of Zelda. «I’m serious.» She adds, lifting her eyebrows to look more authoritative. Not that she minds, of course, but she can already foresee her wife’s outburst upon discovering their little performance going viral among Sabrina’s friends or even around Greendale._

_«I sent it to Ambrose.» The girl winces, slowly sliding her phone into her pocket._

_«Ambrose will suffer second-hand embarrassment, he’ll delete it.» Zelda assures, although not convinced: it’s highly probable he’s going to keep it for blackmailing during more profitable times - but at least he’s not keen on posting random stuff on socials like her younger cousin, especially when it involves his family during private times._

_«You’re all flushed.» Lilith chuckles lightly, pecking at her nose._

_«I’m not used to singing in front of an audience.» Zelda admits with a small voice, melting into her wife’s embrace when she pushes gently toward their booth._

_«You sing in front of me all the time when we shower!» The brunette counters with a bright grin that has Zelda widen her eyes in dismay._

_«Too much information.» Whines Sabrina in protests, sinking in the booth and covering her ears with a dramatic gesture._

_Handing Hilda the microphone after she stood up from her spot, the two sit down in the booth. Once side by side, Lilith tugs the redhead tight to her and she happily obliges, scooting as close as she can get, the woman’s arms engulfing her completely into a warm and safe embrace that smells like home._

_«Dr. Cee? Our turn now!» Hilda calls enthusiastically. «By the sea?»_

_«Anything you say, Ms. Lovett!» He replies in a deep fake voice, making everyone giggle and Sabrina taking out her phone once again._

_Noses brushing together, Zelda and Lilith listen, they sing along with them, but their eyes are locked together, blue in green, both blown into pools of darkness due to the almost total absence of light. As they sway in the booth, holding each other, singing with their family, they feel happier than ever._

It was only two days until Christmas and the jolly atmosphere had spread into Greendale like every year, transforming the small town obsessed with Halloween and macabre into an actual replica of the north pole, with people grinning and running busy with every kind of package like hundreds of Santa little elves.

Of course, Zelda had already bought gifts for everyone, but just like every year, she wouldn’t miss the occasion of strolling down the holiday markets to buy some last-minute things, mostly silly, purposeless trinkets simply for the sake of it; she would never go alone, but Sabrina had preferred going with her friends, Ambrose was at Riverdale with his and Hilda was working at Cee’s. Although she already wanted to ask Mary to accompany her, it also seemed like an efficient solution and the perfect excuse to coax the woman into going out. Mary, however, had taken her by surprise: when she called the cottage to arrange the date, the woman asked her first; “I’d like to go to the fair”, she’d said, “would you come with me?”. Of course, Zelda agreed immediately.

And hence there they were, sipping hot cocoa as they walked between the stalls, everlasting smiles on their lips as their eyes shone with the lights and the beauties in sale. After only one hour, Mary was carrying a large bag filled with colorful boxes, one for each Spellmans, and no matter how hard Zelda had tried, the woman had insisted and even bought some mysterious envelope when the redhead left to buy Hilda a new apron.

«You didn’t have to do it, Mary.» She said through a smile, almost walking into a child, who ran off, completely unbothered.

«I told you, it’s not for you.» The other replied, chin high as she studied a snowball, shaking it so that the small particles that were meant to be snow would rain on the tree and the little houses inside. Unimpressed, she put it back down. «This one is for the genderless baby.» She explained, a tinge of spite in her voice.

«Why is it so important for you to know?» Laughed Zelda, blowing in the cup and taking a sip of the thick, brown liquid inside.

«Because I’d like to know whether I should buy blue or pink stuff, and not only neutral colors like yellow, or orange, or green-»

«First of all,» Zelda interjected, «you shouldn’t buy anything.» She said firmly, eliciting an eye roll from the other woman. «Second of all, I don’t want to impose stereotypes, so the baby will have an equal amount of pink and blue stuff as well as cars and dolls.»

«Seems fair.» Nodded Mary in agreement, studying another snowball, this time, it had a snowman inside. «What about stuffed animals?»

«Tons of them.» Zelda smiled, the nursery suddenly taking form inside her head, with all the furniture she liked, and all the toys on the shelves and the rocking chair, and a bookcase full of colorful volumes; and there they were, Sabrina perched on the crib as she peered inside, Ambrose snapping pictures, Hilda fussing over the babe while she watched and loved her family to the impossible. Mary? Mary was in the picture? She wanted to put her there too, and she would’ve if the woman wished for it - _really_ wished for it - but she didn’t want to get her hopes high. Mary wanted it all, now, but would she keep her word?

«What are you brooding about?» Mary asked, pulling out of her thoughts.

«Nothing.» Zelda lied, forcing a smile and then hiding behind her cup, sipping greedily the cocoa.

«Do you have a Christmas sweater?» Mary suddenly asked, and it was a serious question, despite her rummaging through a pile of clothes of dubious taste.

«I do.» The other replied, avoid telling her that the one she owned was bought when Lilith had to attend a holiday party with her colleagues and she had insisted that Zelda came with her; settled to have a traditional ugly sweater competition, her wife had provided her with a red one with a gingerbread man on top, decorated with a “bite me” embroidery below.

«One that fits?» Mary specified, pulling a green sweater from the pile and holding it up against Zelda, head tilted to the side as she mentally decided if it was suitable.

«I don’t know if it fits now, but I don’t need a new one.» The redhead winced, wondering if she actually intended to buy her a ridiculous sweater that would probably end up in the back of the wardrobe.

«What about a hat?»

«Mary, I don’t _need_ anything!» Zelda chuckled, both frustrated and flattered by the eagerness with which the other woman was trying to buy her things.

«I know, but if there’s something you _want_ , then–» Her voice trailed off when her phone buzzed inside her jacket. Frowning, she reached inside, and pulling at her glove with her teeth, she tapped on the screen.

«Something wrong?» The redhead wondered, mildly concerned by the woman’s vexed expression.

«I don’t know how these kids think it’s fine to ask for tutoring two days before Christmas.» She muttered, angrily typing her reply. «I’m not in the mood to see people today.» She heaved a sharp sigh, breath turning into a white cloud, then shoved her phone back into her pocket and slid the glove back on, the tips of her fingers already red due to the cold.

«But you’re seeing me, right now.» Zelda quipped, wiping off some cocoa from her lips and throwing a bright smirk at her.

The effect was almost immediate: Mary’s expression softened, and the wrinkles on her brow dropped on the corners of her mouth when she smiled.

«I thought you knew by now that you’re not _people_ , Zelda.» The woman pointed out, matter-of-factly, then walked away from the stalls, the redhead in tow, both eager to find some quiet.

There was a tingly and fuzzy sensation blooming inside her chest, Mary’s words chiming in her ears like hundreds of bells, soft and warm and oh-so-promising.

«What are you smiling at, now?» Mary giggled, gently bumping into her shoulder to draw her attention.

Zelda mirrored her expression, shaking her head dismissively. It was one of those days where her head seemed to have decided to travel in the tomorrows, bounce into the past, and then back to the future; Mary was probably thinking she was going mad, and the brunette was entitled: one second she was talking, the other was miles away deep in her thoughts.

«Nothing in particular.» The redhead shrugged, finishing her cocoa and throwing the cup into a bin. «It’s a nice day.»

«Well, do not stop.» Mary mumbled, worrying at her bottom lip, though a smile was creeping on her mouth, poorly concealed by that attempt of hers.

«Don’t stop doing what, exactly?» Zelda frowned in confusion, following her to her car.

She was honestly sad their date was about to end, but on the other hand, she was grateful for the time spent with her, and back at home, Hilda was about to get dinner ready; perhaps when the children would be back, she would’ve asked about their afternoons. It wasn’t the same thrill she experienced before going to the markets with Mary, but it was an undeniably good plan nonetheless.

«And you stopped.» The woman sighed loudly, letting out a chuckle as she took the bag from her hands to put it in the trunk.

«Doing what?» Zelda asked again, tilting her head to the side and glaring this time, demanding.

«Smiling.» Mary said softly. She wasn’t looking at the redhead, too busy trying to unlock the car and opening the door despite the ice and the snow, making it a difficult task. When it snapped open, almost throwing off the balance, she grinned triumphantly and, finally, lifted her gaze to Zelda. «I like it when you smile.»

Zelda stared, unblinking, at the same spot the woman stood just a second prior, before disappearing into the car. There was a bubbly feeling at the pit of her stomach she couldn’t quite identify: was she happy? Definitely. Was she allowed to push her luck and test the waters? Probably not. Would she do it anyway?

She bit down her chapped lip until it hurt.

«Are you coming?» Mary’s voice called.

«Yes.» She mumbled back automatically, climbing in the car in the passenger seat and closing her door after her with a thud. She released the breath she was holding and rubbed her hands together, the vehicle still not warm enough to remove any layer of clothing yet.

«Should I turn on the radio?»

«Yes.» Zelda nodded, thinking that maybe some music would make the silence less awkward if she zoned out again, which seemed very likely to happen soon.

«Heat?»

«Yes, please.» She answered eagerly now, making Mary giggle as she moved out from her lot.

Zelda found her smile back when they left the town behind and took the road alongside the forest. The snow was falling everywhere in big flakes above the car, resting on the trees, weighting on the branches and it all looked so quiet and still that, for a moment, she actually thought the time had stopped. There, in the car with Mary, the radio buzzing for the interferences and then tune on a familiar song that inevitably widened her smile.

«There it is again.» Mary chirped out, voice full of mirth and, turning to her, Zelda noticed she was throwing quick glances at her, still completely focused on the road, minding her driving.

The redhead felt her cheeks growing hot at the remark, now fully conscious that the woman was referring once again to her smile.

«I like this song.» Zelda confessed, not specifying her total adoration for that song, which was - like most of the songs she grew fond of - one of Lilith’s discoveries. Despite knowing she shouldn’t think about her wife, nor making comparisons, but right now it was simply impossible: _Hard Candy Christmas_ was playing and her mind inevitably drifted about singing it with her whole family while the fire crackled in the mantle.

« _Maybe I’ll meet someone,_ » Mary mumbled out of the blue, tapping her fingers on the wheel, following the beats, « _and make him mine. Me, I’ll just–_ » when the chorus hit, she turned her head to Zelda and looked at her, lifting her eyebrows so high they almost disappeared into the hairline.

«You know the song?» Zelda wondered with a small voice, both glad she did remember it, but also full of sorrow because if that was true, there was so much of Lilith trapped inside of her that it was cruel and ironic.

«I heard it a few days ago and got stuck into my head.» Mary admitted, shrugging.

«It’s hard to get it out.» The redhead agreed, knowing that the same had happened with her too. She was still processing the information when the dark-haired woman started to mumble again.

« _I’m barely getting through tomorrow–_ » Then she slowed down, her head turning again, and this time, her hand left the gear shift and lightly tapped on her thigh. Zelda involuntarily jerked up in her seat, trying so hard to ignore the pleads of joining in.

«I don’t feel like dueting right now.» She cleared her throat, eager to relax against the seat and re-enter her comfort place, when she heard a small huff.

«Come on, Ginger, don’t make me sing by myself!»

Her head whipped to her so fast her neck cracked. She felt lightheaded, the words still echoing in her thoughts, her brain struggling to process and decide whether it had been a glitch, a mistake, or it had been real.

«What did you call me?» She asked, voice hoarse. Zelda feared for her blood pressure when she finally acknowledged the loud thumping of her heart.

Mary frowned, concern now written clearly on her face as the redhead stared at her with a haunting expression.

«I- I thought,» she swallowed thickly, mouth slack in puzzlement, «I thought it might be a cute name, but–» She winced uncomfortably, clearing her throat. «But if you don’t like it, I–»

«No.» Zelda interjected in a hurry, shouting that word unnecessarily loud. « _Please_.» She added then, quieter, her brain was suddenly blank.

Zelda had thought nobody would call her that ever again, and instead Mary - of all people, Mary - had done just that, out of the blue, as she begged her to sing one of their Christmas songs together, in her car. If that was another coincidence, it was one of the most beautiful ones and made her heart leap.

Zelda used to hate that nickname - and in a way she still did - but on the other… it had suddenly become the most perfect term of endearment in the world.

So when the chorus hit again, Mary waited. And Zelda sang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dolly Parton's songs:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UaNGtgYwSsU  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOzi-gD7-ts
> 
> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	23. Genesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

AN: Flashback in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 23 - Genesis**

_ She’s wringing her fingers impatiently, the sight of the trees and the forest outside the car window not soothing anymore, but suddenly full of possibilities. _

_ Just like when Lilith took her out on their first date, she’s refused to reveal her intention, and not only she’s spent the ride singing to the radio, but consciously ignoring Zelda’s incessant questions about the surprise she has in store too. The redhead would often argue with her - on the phone until Hilda would roll her eyes and mutter she’s becoming worse than herself - about not liking surprises, but with Lilith, well, she insisted on not revealing anything and the outcome was always magnificent. Hence, after their third outing - all beautiful and unexpected - Zelda stopped asking, even though the curiosity is devouring her from the inside out. _

_ «Not even a hint?» Zelda asks again, voice soft and pleading, hoping it would move something similar to mercy in her spirit. Not that it worked the other times, but she keeps trying anyway. _

_ «I’m not spoiling this for you.» Lilith shakes her head, biting on her lip to hide her grin. She fails, of course. _

_ «I’m surprised you left your baby home.» Zelda quips, leaning back in her seat, eyes fixed ahead, on the orange shades blending into the pink and in the blue, up above, as the sunset lazily grows into the dark night sky. _

_ «Stop that, she’s just a bike!» Lilith retorts, the corners of her mouth curved downward into a pout nonetheless. _

_ «'She'.» Zelda echoes, proving her point. «Why, pray tell, you chose the car, this time? I highly doubt you did it for my sake.» She adds, her voice carrying no venom, dusting off the billowy skirts that she and Hilda chose for the occasion.  
_ _ The redhead is done trying for a suitable outfit - after their first date where she wasn’t prepared for a bike ride at all, or after the second when she wore jeans to a fancy restaurant or a cocktail dress to a concert - and this time she’s just picked something that would fit pretty much any situation. _

_ She’s satisfied now that she’s chosen a simple blouse and a skirt that only reaches under her knee, secured with a belt on her waist, similar to Lilith’s attire - black skinny trousers and striped elegant shirt, hair down and curled on her shoulders - which means that whatever it is, it’s an informal event. _

_ «It’s for our sake. Combined.» Lilith giggles, quickly working off the slight vexation of having been caught treating her beloved bike like a person. «For this thing, I need a car. Unfortunately, she-my bike wouldn’t have done the trick.» She explains. _

_ Zelda narrows her eyes: the woman might think she’s explained everything, but she’s only elicited more confusion and mystery. _

_ «So you need your car.» The redhead mumbles, nodding to herself, teeth scraping the inside of her cheek as she mulls over the new information. «A drive-in?» _

_ «There’s a drive-in in town?» Lilith asks back, genuinely excited. _

_ «Well, no. But I thought–» The other hurries, wincing at the disappointed expression that is now spreading on the brunette’s face. «Why would you need your car for anything? Is it like a road trip overnight? Because I have an appointment for a funeral arrangement early in the morning and–» _

_ «No, it’s not a road trip!» Lilith reassures her, frowning for a moment. «And could you please not talk about funerals on our date?» _

_ «Sorry.» Zelda chirps, only mildly feeling guilty. «But you’ll have to get used to it, you know, it’s my job after all.» _

_ «What makes you think I’ll stay around much?» _

_ Zelda gasps silently, and her jaw stays slack for a moment while a warm flush creeps from her neck down to her chest. She’s glad it’s almost dark outside so Lilith can’t really see the evidence of her sudden panic. Has she really confessed her longing for Lilith to stay - just to stay - because she’s felt good with her, so far? _

_ «I didn’t mean–» She hurries, but her brain glitches for a second. «I presumed we–» _

_ «Oh, so there’s a 'we'?» The other woman grins, averting her eyes from the road just to peek at her face, wide eyes and all. «I’m just teasing you, Zelda. Of course, I want to stay around enough to get used to you talking about funeral arrangements and embalming corpses, just- no work tonight, deal?» _

_ Zelda stares at her, having a small breath. _

_ «Deal.» She concedes. It is fair, at least: they’re dating for a little more than two weeks now, and they’ve spent time chatting, enjoying the moment, never really thinking about anything - well, that was on her part, of course. Does Lilith think of more? Perhaps she needs to ask. But then again, what if Lilith does want more of whatever they’re having, is she ready to indulge the possible outcome? _

_ She gets a small intake of breath, choosing not to dwell too much and just ask her, straightforward, what does Lilith expect from this, since they have barely held hands until now - and each other of course, but out of necessity because of the damn bike. There is undeniably a tension between them, but would they ever act upon it? _

_ But just the second before she gets ready to release it and, finally, talk, words get trapped in her throat: the car bumps into something, knocking the wind out of her lungs, startling her. _

_ «Sorry,» Lilith chuckles, gripping the wheel, «we’re going a little off track, I fear it might be a little bouncy.» She warns, sitting on the edge of her seat. _

_ Zelda throws her a glance before mirroring her, planting her boots into the floor mat, desperately trying to ground herself and clawing at the handle, dread in her eyes. She’s been on the forest tracks before and on a car too - though it was a proper jeep and better equipped for that - but somehow she feels uneasy now and she’s also quite unable to detect the reason for the queasy sensation at the pit of her stomach. _

_ «You’re positive to know the way?» She suddenly asks, voice cracking as the car jerks around, trashing them both around mercilessly. _

_ «It’s worth it.» Lilith assures, slowing down considerably when they finally reach a clearance deep in the woods. «I dare you to say otherwise.» _

_ Zelda unpeels herself from her seat, pushing upright, almost pressing her nose against the window: that place is just beautiful, mysterious, secluded, and, yes, incredibly romantic too. _

_ «What is this place?» Asked Zelda, her voice barely above a whisper. _

_ «It’s my degree thesis.» The other replied, worrying at her lip nervously. «Do you like it? The altar I mean.» _

_ «That pile of rocks?» Zelda asks with a disbelieving voice, eyebrows lifted, only now identifying that shapeless mound of grey matter as something artificial. _

_ Lilith growls and rolls her eyes. _

_ «A pile of rocks.» She repeats mockingly, putting a little twang in it for good measure, and then reaches behind to retrieve a mysterious basket from the backseat. «I’ll change your mind.» _

_ «I don’t doubt it.» She giggles, smiling in delight. _

_ Slowly pacing around with her arms folded, her hands secured beneath her arms to protect the tip of her fingers - prone to become cold with the first chilly gush of wind -, Zelda listens to the quiet sounds of the forest. At first, she would have marveled at the silence, but soon enough, she realizes that is all far from silent: it’s not like the forest around the house - where owl would sing at night and birds would flap their wings constantly, and the wind would shake the trees - that part of the forest seems to be alive. There are flutters, bushes moving, the wind howling in the distance and hooves running upon the dead leaves, and the air, even the air is different: denser, scented of something old and illegible. _

_ She closes her eyes, letting the forest enter her lungs, almost forgetting Lilith is there, working on something she is not supposed to see. _

_ «Now you can look.» The woman calls, and as if lured by sirens, the redhead turns around, smiling already. _

_ She gasps silently at the theatrical pose of Lilith, showing the front of the car adorned with a blanket thrown across the hood and the windshield, the basket laying there too, expertly balanced in a way it won’t slip and tip over. There’s also soft music playing in the background, reverberating from the inside of the car, from the radio, and everything looks and sounds and feels just perfect. _

_ «Lilith, I–» _

_ «I wanted to impress you,» the woman starts, and her mask has fallen off now because her eyes are low, teeth scraping on the red lipstick, smearing it slightly around the rim of her mouth, «and I brought you to that fancy restaurant and to the concert, and–» _

_ «I loved it all.» Zelda interjects, maybe a little too harshly, taken by surprise by the sudden change in her posture and behavior. _

_ «I know you did, but–» She heaves a sigh. «I’m not saying it was a façade because it wasn’t, but this is the real me. I am both, I mean, and I wanted to show you this side as well.» She finally confesses, her lips cocking into a timid smile. «The side who obsesses over occult, symbolism, and mysticism and often wanders in the forest to clear her head and think.» _

_ «Are you Wiccan?» Zelda asks, slowly walking to her. She sure is a peculiar woman, but somehow the thought never crossed her mind - not that it would matter, of course, she’s just curious and, in all honesty, would think Lilith even more interesting than she already is. _

_ «Not really.» The other shrugs dismissively, reaching her hand out and the redhead promptly grabs it, fingers smoothly intertwining. «But I know some pretty fascinating stories if you want to hear them.» _

_ Climbing on the hood, the blanket wrinkling beneath her, Zelda lays down, eyes glued to the night sky, the indigo bleeding into the deepest shade of black, a delighted smile spreading across her lips. _

_ «Tell me everything about them, Lilith.» _

_ They are side to side, heads nestled in their crossed arms. Coming from the hood of the car, there is a cozy heat radiating from the engine below and into the blanket, wrapping them both into a warm embrace. _

_ It is like anything she’s done before, gazing at the sky like that, the cold is completely forgotten, her whole self enthralled by the pulsing stars above their heads, listening to Lilith as she rattles off story after story about every planet and constellation, about the myths of ancient gods trapped forever in the universe, and also about the science of it too, of how most of those stars are already dead and gone by now, and they are merely staring at their slipstream, her voice gently fading with the notes of the  Claire de Lune by Debussy coming from the car radio inside. _

_ «And then there’s one about the moon.» Lilith says, tilting her head to the redhead, curiously inspecting her smile. «Do you know the story about the moon?» She asks, teeth scraping at her bottom lip, clearly impatient. _

_ «No, I do not know the story about the moon.» Zelda echoes, her grin spreading even more. She loves to hear those stories, but most of all, she loves to hear Lilith telling them - she loves her voice. _

_ «There are plenty,» the woman breathes out, brow slightly knitted, «but I like two of them in particular, although one is not really a story.» _

_ «First the story, please.» Zelda whispers, eyes already drifting on the white roundness of the satellite, not full by a small piece, so bright it seems it’s glowing. _

_ «Since you asked so nicely.» Lilith quips, scooting imperceptibly closer to her. When she leans into her shoulder, the redhead tenses, but immediately relaxes, hardly concealing the smirk that is creeping out her lips now. _

_ «What are you doing?» Zelda asks, giggling. _

_ «You see those darker spots?» She waits for the other to nod and hums in agreement. «See how the shape resembles a hare?» _

_ «A hare?» Frowns the redhead back, shaking her head. She holds in her breath when she feels Lilith’s hand cupping her cheek, gently readjusting the angle of her face until Zelda gasps. «Oh I see it now. Those are the ears!» She points with her forefinger then, enthusiastic. How come she’s never noticed? _

_ «That’s right!» The brunettes nods. «So, the story goes like this: there was a lonely traveler who got lost in the forest; for days he tried to find his path back, but with little success. Close to starvation, he asked the animals for help and so a monkey, a wolf, an otter, and a hare appeared.» _

_ «Did they help him?» Zelda chirps out, still looking at the moon in awe. _

_ «Oh yes,» Lilith nods, «the monkey climbed the highest tree and retrieved the juiciest fruits for him, the wolf hunted down the fattest wild boar and brought back its meat, the otter dived into the river and dragged the tastiest fishes to where the traveler had settled a warm fire.» _

_ «What about the hare?» _

_ «The hare couldn’t find anything but a few straws of grass,» she tells, sighing, «and it was so desperate to help the traveler, that in the end, the little hare threw itself in the fire and offered its own flesh to him.» _

_ «Lilith, that’s awful!» Zelda gasps, jerking up, eyes wide in dismay. But to her horror, the other woman just chuckles at her, fingers wrapping around her upper arm, urging her to lay down again. «It’s not funny!» She spats, eyes throwing daggers. _

_ «The story is not over!» She defends. «So, I was saying, the hare threw itself in the fire and offered its own flesh to him, but before the flames could burn its little body, the traveler revealed himself as the god Sakra, who was so moved by the hare’s generosity, that he decided to put its tribute in the moon, for everyone to see.» _

_ «Alright, that’s better.» Zelda concedes, but still pouts on the verge of sulking, her arms crossed. «What about the non-story?» _

_ Lilith takes a deep breath and this time, she glances at the moon herself, so the redhead feels compelled to do so as well. _

_ « _ They call thee Hecate, goddess of many names , _ » she begins to recite, voice low and melodious, so soft and gentle, it gets carried by the wind, as if she’s creating magic, one with the forest, « _ goddess of the tree faces, tree voices, of the tree paths who wields the perpetual flames of the three vessels, thee who offers the triple way, and rule over the triple decade . _ » _

_ «I love it.» Whispers Zelda, almost fearing she might break the spell by interrupting. _

_ «I love the symbolism behind the triple goddess: new moon, half moon, full moon; all coming along in the perpetual circle of every woman’s life - maiden, mother, crone - and so forth, from the origin of times to the end of days.» _

_ «It’s beautiful.» The redhead breathes out, completely captured. _

_ «It is.» Agrees the other, rolling to her side, propping in on her elbow. «But not as beautiful as you are.» _

_ Zelda whips her head so fast she winces in pain when the muscles in her neck almost snap. Mouth open in surprise, she stares at the woman in front of her, the blue of her eyes completely engulfed by the black pupils, so blown and dark Zelda feels like drowning in them - or maybe she’s drowning for real because Lilith’s words are swirling inside her head and she’s forgotten how to breathe. _

_ «What?» _

_ «I said-» She swallows thickly, but her gaze never leaves the redhead, and it’s warm and exciting and she feels like a star herself, right now. «I said that you’re beautiful, Zelda.» _

_ «Lilith, I-» _

_ «And it’s been ten years,» her breath hitches, but suddenly she’s nearer, her face so close the other woman can feel hot breath fanning her lips, «but I never stopped thinking about you, that feisty Ginger I rescued in the forest.» _

_ Zelda can’t help but smile at the memory, and feels herself blushing profusely - on the cheeks, her neck, down to the valley of her breasts - and she can’t even bring herself to complain about that horrendous nickname or to specify that, in fact, she’d let Lilith rescue her out of pure necessity. _

_ «I thought about you too.» She finally whispers back, eyes gravitating on the woman’s face - close, yes, but somehow still not enough. _

_ «Really?» It’s a breathy chuckle that escapes Lilith’s mouth now. _

_ «About how I felt- after you took me to your cottage.» The redhead nods slowly, throat tightening, «I felt cared for and safe and- I’ve never felt the same with anyone else… not once, in ten years.» _

_ «Zelda?» _

_ «Yes?» She glances at Lilith now, and she’s not laughing anymore, the glimmer is almost gone from her eyes- she’s not even smiling. She’s serious, deadly so, her eyes boring into her. _

_ Oh. _

_ «I think I’m going to kiss you, now,» she whispers, voice low and steady, «you’ll let me do it, without freaking out?» _

_ Zelda stares, words meaningless both in her head and on the tip of her mouth, at the moment. She nods, batting her lashes in dazzlement, eyelids fluttering close when their lips collide - finally - into a kiss. And it’s soft, and tastes like a long-awaited treat, sweet and rich because it isn’t hurried, but just right, the beginning and the end, all at once. _

_ «Lilith?» She calls, and her voice is broken in small pants. _

_ «Yes?» The other slurs back, pressing her lips together, not ready to let the taste of her go just yet. _

_ «Is it past midnight?» _

_ Lilith frowns deeply at that, opens her mouth a few times, then shakes her head. _

_ «I don’t know, why?» _

_ «I wanted to know if our first kiss happened today or tomorrow.» She says, almost whining, big eyes pleading. _

_ Lilith chuckles, but can’t resist crashing into her mouth once more, sealing her lips into another kiss. _

_ «You’re a very strange woman, Zelda Spellman.» The brunette chuckles against her skin. «But I like you anyway.» _

With the TV set on mute, they were playing charades. Not actively involved - her ankles were too sore for that - Zelda laughed and enjoyed the general glee, her eyes drifting often to the screen, checking the time. Only ten minutes now and they would greet yet another year… and against all odds, they were all together, still.

On Christmas day, they migrated to Mary’s cottage to celebrate, and she had settled everything so nicely that Hilda almost perceived it as a challenge to do better next time she was over: decorations had been put everywhere around the house, mistletoe hanging under every doorpost, fake snow on every surface available, sculptures made of sticks and leaves from the woods, Christmas songs playing on loop. She’d baked all sorts of things and they sipped cocoa in front of the mantel, talking about whatever theme popped into their mind. Despite being the first Christmas celebrated outside the Spellman manor, everybody enjoyed it because, after all, what counted was being together.

Smiling at the memory, Zelda turned her head to her niece, wincing when Ambrose and Hilda started to playfully argue about something. Yes, those games could get pretty loud, but they brought such glee to her spirit that the woman just couldn’t manage to get mad about it.

«Auntie Zee, you’re the judge!» Sabrina protested, theatrically gesturing around. «Ambrose cheated!»

«I did not!» The boy protested, outraged. «I barely moved my lips!»

«Oh, please, you totally mouthed the answer to Aunt Hilda.» The girl sulked, sinking into the sofa with her arms crossed.

«But I didn’t catch it.» Her sister mumbled in defense.

«So you admit he cheated.» Sabrina rebuked, narrowing her eyes, dangerous.

«I– no, I mean- I–» Hilda gasped, throwing a panicked glance at Zelda, who just laughed heartily, easily coaxing everyone else into smiling with her.

«Mary’s turn now.» The redhead announced, patting the shoulder of the woman sitting beside her. «And then we chill down because it’s almost midnight, and–» She trailed off, her voice getting trapped back in her throat because of a yawn.

«The boss hath spoken.» Mary quipped, standing up with a groan and fishing for her card.

Zelda leaned back on the couch, her eyes fixed on the woman’s messy movements, her mind immediately drifting away as the loud noises of her family shouting and arguing faded away into a static noise and then total silence.

She tried to fight back her drowsiness, first of all, because it was a special day and she just wanted to be there when the clock struck midnight and the first instant of the new year, and second of all, it was a tradition and she just couldn’t miss it for the world. After her wedding, she thought she would never celebrate a similar occasion without Lilith, yet there she was, wondering whether Mary would stay close to her as they shouted numbers together for the traditional countdown. And it was simply astonishing that she would celebrate the next one with a small child curled up in her lap.

Life had been crazy, full of surprises, full of sorrows but also full of hope and possibilities. And, especially, new beginnings: it would be the year that would bring her the longed-for baby she’d dreamed about for decades and perhaps if she were lucky, even the companion she thought she’d lost to share the rest of her life with.

«We won!» Sabrina cried out triumphantly and held her hands high, waiting for Mary to high-five her. She did, laughing, and then the sofa sunk at the added weight of the woman as she took back her spot beside Zelda.

«We’ll beat you next year.» Ambrose promised, throwing daggers at both of the women, letting himself fall on the armchair, and petting Vinegar Tom when the dog eagerly jumped into his lap. «And you better pop out a boy, Auntie Zee, because VT and I are clearly outnumbered.»

«I’ll look into it, Ambrose.» Zelda replied with a bright smile, absent-mindedly stroking the underside of her belly. Was she secretly hoping for the baby to be something specific? She would lie to herself if she said that last night dream of lulling a girl to sleep hadn’t made her feel all fuzzy and warm inside - but of course that could’ve been a memory rather than a dream, and she was only remembering one of the many sleepless nights she’d rocked Sabrina in her arms. Boy, girl, did it matter? Apparently so, for everyone else.

«Ambrose, turn it up! We’re almost there!» Hilda urged, jumping to her feet to gather flutes for everyone.

She placed the champagne bottle in the boy’s hands - who removed the cap, ready to pop it at the right time - and Zelda winced, as she was stuck with a much more depressing glass of non-alcoholic apple cider between her hands. Mary smiled at her in sympathy. Sabrina raised her own glass with a disconsolate grimace as she was stuck with the juice as well - but for the last year.

They all stared at the tv with expectant eyes, the people in Trafalgar Square in NY city, bleeding into another crowd in London, then New Delhi, and Los Angeles, and then Rome, and Paris, and back to Washington, and Moscow, in a colorful parade of celebrations, some already happened, some soon to burst out into a cheerful explosion; in less than thirty seconds, it would’ve been their turn.

They started to count, yelling each number with glee and overpowering enthusiasm until they reached one, and then zero. The new year had begun.

They all laughed and placed sloppy kisses on each other’s cheeks, and they hugged and drank from their glasses into a crazed celebration. 

«Happy new year!» Sabrina cried out, throwing herself on top of Zelda, and then suddenly the redhead found herself trapped between her niece’s stranglehold and Mary, who had thrown her arms out as well, attempting to return an embrace that was only partially meant for her.

«Careful, darling.» Zelda scolded with a soft voice, even though she was eagerly hugging her back.

The girl grinned, then proceeded to kiss them both, in rapid succession.

«I’m so glad you’re both here.» She said, and it sounded more like she was telling a secret, but she looked happy as if one of her wishes had just been fulfilled.

When they got released, Zelda heaved a breath, daring to tilt her head to the side, toward Mary, even though she kept her eyes low in her lap.

«I’m glad you’re here as well.» She mumbled, and she feared her voice wouldn’t be hearable above her family’s crazed singing and cheerful celebration, but Mary did hear her and started worrying at her lip.

«I wouldn’t have missed it.» She replied softly, shifting closer to her on the couch.

Zelda stared at her, suddenly mesmerized by the subtle movements of her mouth, coated in red for the occasion, a bold color she hadn’t seen there in a very long time - since before her wife’s last work trip, probably.

At this point, there would be a kiss. Not on the cheek, but a proper one, on the lips, with her wife - or girlfriend - as it had happened in the past seven years; they would hug and kiss because it was a promise for a good year, a better one, even if the past one had been great. And they would hold outside, clutching under a blanket, as they watched the fireworks from Riverdale into the night sky.

«It’s starting!» Hilda announced happily, clapping her hands. She bolted toward the front door, dialing her boyfriend’s number to call him and presumably commentate live the show - Zelda wondered if her sister had sent Cee away to Canada to actually see his family or they had agreed to stay separate for the night to not pour salt on the wound for the kiss-at-midnight issue.

A distant explosion echoed outside the house.

Zelda felt her heart clench. It was suddenly summer again, she tasted chocolate in her mouth, and the thrill of her wife’s homecoming spread inside her chest; then the dread, the loss. She gasped for air, eyes wide and watery.

«Zelda?»

The redhead felt the grip around her upper arm and focused on it, anchoring herself to it, desperately pulling out of the past.

«I’m fine.» She mumbled automatically. She was glad that, at least, no one else had noticed her brief zoning out to much more woeful times.

«Fireworks!» Sabrina cried out, excitedly tugging her cousin by his arms, and he followed, stumbling, chugging his second glass of champagne.

«Don’t forget your coats!» Zelda yelled, the sudden concern about either of them falling sick pushing on her protective instinct - of aunt, guardian, mother, she didn’t even know anymore, but had she ever? - and making her forget all the rest.

«You’re not going?» Mary asked, lowering herself on the couch, head resting on the padded back.

Zelda slowly shook her head, the faded lights flickering on the windows, behind the embroidered lace of the curtains.

«No, I’d rather stay in here.» She mumbled, sighing tiredly when she imitated the other woman’s pose, stretching her legs and trying to relax the muscles in her lower back. «It’s cold outside,» she said in a fake lamenting voice, «and I’m not in the mood for fireworks.» She lied, pulling up the blanket and securing it around her body with her own arms, hands running up and down the prominent bump.

She winced, shifting almost imperceptibly on the sofa; glancing at the clock, she closed her eyes meekly: of course, it was past midnight, so her own personal - and very private - show of sudden explosions had begun. She heaved a particularly sharp sigh when she felt a small limb stabbing just below the ribcage.

«Are you alright?»

Cracking one eye open, she could see Mary’s inquiring gaze boring into her, worry pending on her face like a mask. It was sweet for her to care that much, Zelda had wished for that, but now she didn’t want her to stress over it - or, perhaps, Mary did want to stress over it? It seemed to be the case. And who was Zelda to say no?

Tilting her head to Mary, the nape of her neck comfortably nestled against the back cushion, she smiled, silently cajoling the woman into relaxing as well: it was fine.

«Since the debut in the elevator,» she spoke softly, «the baby hasn’t stopped performing, especially at night.»

She watched, eyes fixed on the woman’s face as her gaze shifted lower, settling on the blanket. It heaved and dropped with her breaths, and at times, more peculiarly, it moved around in flutter motions as the baby poked and turned inside her.

«Is it moving right now?» She asked in a whisper, frowning deeply when the blanket shifted again.

«The little demon is having a party of its own.» She let out a peal of breathy laughter, stroking her belly to try and coax the baby to calm down, but just like every night to no avail.

It was impossible not to notice the activity, but the redhead couldn’t be happier for the question, and most of all for the clear glimpse of genuine curiosity that sparkled in her blue eyes at the moment. If she still had a doubt about Mary and her interest in her family - especially the incoming newest addition - the whole universe was evidently trying to make her see things clearly. And she was grateful for it, she was grateful for Mary because, except for her wife, she couldn’t have gotten a better person to stay by her side.

So when the woman hesitantly scooted closer, so near in fact, that their bodies were flushed one against the other - thighs brushing together, Mary’s front leaning against the redhead’s side - Zelda stilled, marveling at the hesitancy of the woman, so different from the eagerness with which she’d wrapped her arms around her middle, in the elevator, to feel the baby’s first movements.  
Zelda had thought it was an important step further in their situation - relationship? Could she dare define what they had an actual relationship? A budding one, perhaps? - yet this… this felt even more important, for some reason. It wasn’t instinct, it wasn’t diving into a sudden event with the unrelenting need of being part of something, that was calculated, deliberated and they were both aware of that.

«May I?» The question was a mere formality and even while the words left her mouth, Mary’s hand was hovering already over her swollen stomach hidden behind the blanket. Zelda nodded - another formality because Mary wasn’t looking at her face right now - and stared down at herself, her breath hitching when she felt the grounding weight of her hand placing on top of her bump.

Zelda let out a breathy chuckle when she felt another jolt, deeper this time.

«It must be terribly uncomfortable.» Mary winced, though an excited grin spread across her lips. The baby had gotten stronger since its first movements and the fluttering had soon left the room for kicks and jams.

«Only when I’d like to sleep.» Zelda replied with a huff.

«You _are_ a little demon, then.» Mary whispered, leaning slightly down.

She wasn’t the first person to talk to her belly. Hilda did that constantly, and it was annoying at times, when she would only talk to her child, ignoring her completely; and then when Sabrina would tell about her day at the dinner table, she would often promise to teach  _ this  _ and  _ that  _ and show  _ this  _ or  _ that  _ place, and even Ambrose would plead for it to be a boy to have some backup.

But Mary... Mary was Mary and her heart skipped a beat.

She barely registered her warm hand moving and stroking the swell of her stomach, and she regretted not remembering the tender nonsense she spoke after, which resulted in the baby moving, and then wiggling around a little more, and then nothing. _Absolutely nothing_.

«There.» Mary crooned, somewhat satisfied, grinning brightly up at Zelda.

«How did you–» The redhead stopped mid-sentence, dropping her voice, fearing she might break the spell. Hilda had tried everything: singing, talking, even Sabrina had help at times, reading until the wee hours whenever it wasn’t a school night, but the baby was having none, keeping everyone awake. Maybe it had just switched day and night; either way, they gave up and Zelda tried to sleep whenever the baby would let her.

Mary had accomplished the impossible in under five minutes.

The redhead was astonished, she was wondering if it had just been a coincidence, or her imagination, or natural skill, or whether it was Mary indeed having a special, unknown connection with the unborn babe. It shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did - under those circumstances, of course, it did.

Zelda heaved a long breath, finally relaxing. It was the first night she might’ve been able to sleep and it sounded like a heavenly prospect. She leaned back into the couch and closed her eyes, basking into the quietness of the room, Mary’s steady breaths lapping her ear. She would’ve fallen asleep right there and then, suddenly exhausted, her whole body weak like jelly, if Mary hadn’t tugged on her arm, gently keeping her awake.

«Zelda?» She called, and judging by how her voice had sounded, she was smiling.

«Mh?» She mumbled, whining a little when she felt being hoisted up, her body slumping against Mary’s, her arms enveloping her steadily. Zelda felt safe there. As if she  _ knew  _ everything would be alright because Mary was the answer, the missing piece she needed to keep her life together… and Zelda didn’t have to beg for her to stay, because Mary _wanted_ to be there, she wanted to take care of her mending heart and she wanted Zelda, broken shards and all.

«Let’s tuck you into bed.» She whispered softly, carefully leading out of the room.

«But everyone is outside–» Came the weak complaint, eyes darting to the window.

«They won’t mind.» Mary assured, «come on.»

Zelda huffed, but couldn’t protest further, for her eyelids had become so heavy it was torture keeping them open. What was happening to her? She hadn’t felt so relaxed and tired in months. Was Mary both her medicine and her drug? Was there any other way to find that out?

Zelda let the woman lead her upstairs and into their bedroom - the one that used to be anyway - and sat down on the bed while she toed her shoes off. She barely registered Mary pulling the duvet for her, like Hilda would do every night, and Zelda scooted under it, not even bothering to change into her nightclothes.

She curled up on her side, cheek resting on her pillow as the exhaustion washed over her like a plague. She didn’t know if it was because of the surprising calmness of her baby - who had suddenly decided to be merciful for the night, thanks to Mary - or because she hadn’t realized how tired she was, but Zelda only wanted to sleep.

«You’ll be fine?»

Zelda breathed into her pillow. She could see Mary standing in the doorway, her fingers ghosting over the light switch, ready to flick it and to let her room fall into darkness - and loneliness.

No, she wouldn’t be fine. Because her bed was terribly empty behind her and she just knew that not even Hilda would’ve filled that void, not tonight.

«Zelda?»

«Hold me?» The redhead mumbled, and it came out like a pathetic request, but she didn’t mind - anything to make her stay. But she didn’t look, and kept her eyes shut, fearing Mary was already gone. «I know it might sound stupid and I shouldn’t feel like that, but- I don’t feel comfortable sleeping alone, and–»

«Shh, it’s alright.»

Zelda’s breath hitched when she felt a soft tutting sound, and then the mattress sinking under the additional weight of Mary as she carefully crawled in beside her.

When the woman scooted near - impossibly so - Zelda felt like she was dreaming already, but when she felt her arm wrapping around her waist, coming to rest just below her breasts, keeping her even closer, the redhead not only thought she’d fallen asleep, but she was positive she’d died and she was floating in paradise.

Mary’s breath was soothing in her ear, the warm blows coaxing her hair, the steady rising and falling of her chest against her back, her legs molding perfectly against her own, keeping her tight, and cozy, and warm even without the duvet pulled up on top of them.

Zelda clutched at her arm, trapping her hand between her own and tugging it next to her face to smell better the few drops of familiar perfume that she’d surely dabbed on her wrists before leaving the cottage, like she usually did. Mary was there, she’d stayed, and Zelda couldn’t be happier nor safer.

She was on the verge of drifting off to sleep when she felt a timid peck on her shoulder and Mary soft murmurings.

«Happy new year, Zelda.» She murmured, and then tucked her face into the nape of her neck, her nose only slightly brushing against the other’s skin. «May all your wishes come true.»

«And yours as well.» Zelda slurred, smiling into the pillow.

Could she hope for something that she already had - or was close to having? Having Mary near, someone who would take care of her and the baby, having someone to care for in return, it was all she needed.

Maybe love? Yes, perhaps love was still amiss in the equation, but that would come, eventually, it always did. Mary was ready; what about Zelda, was she? She’d waited for so long now, she’d stopped asking herself that question.

But yes, of course, nothing could go wrong: they’d touched the pit, the only possible way viable, was up; only a bright future was awaiting them, and it was theirs for the taking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claire de lune: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nft7tiy5E-w  
> The legend of the hare on the moon: https://lalepreelaluna.it/the-rabbit-hare-on-moon/  
> Hecate's poem is inspired by Robert Graves'. 
> 
> If you have time and something (anything) to say, please leave a comment, thank you ♡


	24. Whole halves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

AN: Flashback in italic.

* * *

**Chapter 24 - Whole halves**

_ Nursing a glass of liquor in her hands, Zelda sighs and leans her head back on the couch, closing her eyes. She rubs her feet on the bristles of the carpet, enjoying the warm friction she’s creating, her ears focused on absorbing every little crack coming from the fire; then she scrunches her face, grunts, head throbbing, and to push the unpleasant thoughts away, she draws the glass to her lips and chugs the amber content, letting the liquor burn her throat on its way down her stomach. _

_ «Can I have more?» She mutters, voice hoarse. _

_ «Zelda, it’s your second already.» Lilith gently replies, settling down her own, untouched glass of liquor on the coffee table. «Is there something wrong?» _

_ «No.» The redhead heaves a sharp sigh, slightly vexed. «I just want to enjoy a drink with you, that’s all.» She snaps, but it’s blatantly clear she’s lying. _

_ Lilith leans back on the couch, fingers rubbing at the bridge of her nose. _

_ «Hardly. Since you’ve already downed two glasses and I haven’t started mine, yet.» _

_ «Are you judging me?» Zelda snarls, eyebrows raised. _

_ «No, I would never–» The brunette gets a sharp intake of air, trying so hard not to let anger take ahold of her, right now. «I would like you to tell me what’s wrong.» _

_ «Nothing!» The younger woman says, maybe even a little louder than intended. «I mean, nothing between us, anyway.» _

_ «So there is something wrong.» Lilith states, tilting her head to the side, a confused frown plastered on her face. _

_ «It’s nothing that should concern you, I’ll manage.» She mutters, voice flat. «Now, can we please enjoy this?» _

_ Lilith keeps staring at her, dumbstruck. Zelda is so beautiful with the firelight casting orange shadows on her skin, and her green eyes sparkle at the flames, but there’s a whole cloak of dread enveloping her, making her distant like a stranger. She feels left out. And her heart throbs painfully, dismay and helplessness blending into each other. _

_ «Of course it concerns me if it’s about you.» The woman whispers. «Share it.» _

_ Zelda shakes her head and grunts, pushing the empty glass on the coffee table, the crystal chiming as it slides across the wood. _

_ «Yeah, I don’t really want to.» She mutters, crossing her arms. _

_ Lilith lets out a disbelieving scoff. For a moment, she wishes she’d chugged her own glass of liquor only to have an imaginary strength in herself, but on the other hand, does she need the booze in her veins? Not really, since the rage is making her blood boil, resulting in an unpleasant agitation of disappointment. _

_ «Pray tell, why are we even together?» Lilith spats, eyebrows so high they almost blend with her hairline. _

_ «I beg your pardon?» Zelda gasps, frowning. _

_ «I’m serious, Zelda.» The brunette breathes out, eyes boring into her. «For real, why are we together? We- we never talk.» She points out matter-of-factly, bracing her own elbows, her shoulders twitching into a dismissive shrug. _

_ «What’s that supposed to mean?» The redhead cries out, eyes squinted. «We talk all the time.» _

_ «No, not really.» Lilith spats. «In two months, we never had a real conversation, like- you never share your problems, even when it’s clearly something big.» _

_ «I don’t recall you sharing your life’s dilemmas with me either.» The other retorts defensively. _

_ «Because I don’t have any dilemma, at the moment.» Lilith growls back. _

_ «Good, I don’t have either.» The redhead states, proudly, chin kept high. «Also, I don’t need you to be my therapist, thank you very much.» _

_ «Zelda, seriously, you think sharing your troubles with your girlfriend is not part of a healthy relationship?» She asks, raising her voice, turning her whole body to the side, so she can face the other woman in toto. «Because if that’s the case, then I am really  really  sorry for you.» _

_ Lilith stares in dismay, lips ajar, when Zelda abruptly pushes herself off the couch and angrily snatches her stilettos from the carpet where she’s left them, then frantically looks around, green eyes throwing daggers as she pursues her quest. _

_ «Where’s my purse?» _

_ «Why do you need your purse?» _

_ «Well,» she snarls, straightening her back, pushing air from her nose and a strand of copper hair behind her ear, «if you’re going to stand there and judge me, I’m going home. I don’t need to be lectured about how I live my life!» _

_ «I’m not doing that, Zelda!» The older woman counters, fist hitting the padding of the couch in frustration. «But since you’re in a relationship with me, I would like to be involved. You cannot decide for the both of us, it isn’t fair!» _

_ «Don’t bother calling in the morning.» Zelda growls, apparently deaf to Lilith’s words, and when she finally grabs her purse, she stumbles toward the entrance, gripping the handle and twisting it in a hurry, failing to effectively open the door.  _

_ «Where do you think you’re going? It’s the middle of the night.» Slowly, with a dramatic eye-roll and a scoff, Lilith stands up from the couch and joins her there, covering her hand with hers, gently pulling it away from the handle. _

_ She’s surprised Zelda is letting her do so without yelling, but Lilith decides wisely not to push her luck and ignores any possible questions currently rising up in her head. Is she calm now? It’s generally easy to read Zelda, but right now- she simply can’t: it’s all a mystery, one that sends needles into her heart as well. _

_ «You won.» Zelda declares in the end, and there’s a tinge of spite in her voice. «I’m staying, happy?» Scoffing, she snatches her hand away and marches back to the couch, letting her body drop on it rather unceremoniously, her stilettos and purse falling to the carpet with confused thuds. _

_ «No, I’m not happy.» Lilith snarls, closing the distance between them and sitting on the couch herself, one leg tucked beneath her as she carefully scoots closer to the other woman. «Listen, Zelda, I want you to tell me.» _

_ «Tell you what?» She murmurs, voice flat. _

_ «Everything- anything.» Lilith says eagerly. «I won’t- I won’t settle for a half relationship with you.» She adds then, voice lower, unsteady. _

_ Zelda gives a soft sigh, then slowly turns her head, almost as if she’s attracted or intrigued by the woman’s sudden vulnerability. _

_ «What do you mean- 'half'?» She chirps out, a sparkle of fear cracking her voice. _

_ «I mean that I want you whole, Zelda Spellman, the good and the bad.» She explains, hands blindly searching for hers, squeezing her fingers, sedating only partially the overwhelming need of having her close. «I want to be there- here, for you. You just- please, would you just- let me in?» _

_ «Lilith, I-» her breath hitches, «I’m not used to this, I don’t even tell my sister about my troubles, though she’s learned to guess what’s wrong since we were girls.» _

_ «It’s your way to tell me that I have to learn as well?» The brunette asks through a smirk, hand trailing up her arm softly. _

_ «No,» Zelda lets out a small pant, but finally a smile creeps on her lips, «it’s my way to tell you that it’s not easy for me. I’m the older sibling and our parents were- well, I’ve always managed things on my own.» _

_ «You don’t have to.» Lilith offers, and her hand easily finds its way up her shoulder, her neck, until she cups her face, thumb stroking her cheekbone. «Not anymore.» _

_ «I’m sorry I snapped at you.» Zelda murmurs, leaning into the touch, collapsing on her shoulder, seeking warmth, and safeness, and comfort, or simply Lilith, which is all those things at once. _

_ «You’re a bit of a bitch, at times.» Lilith quips softly, placing a peck on the crown of her head. Zelda giggles against her, but doesn’t reply. «But it’s all worth it, if that means having you here.» _

_ «Are you really interested in the whole package?» Zelda inquires with a small voice, hand absent-mindedly stroking the older woman’s belly, slightly under the hem of her blouse, pads tracing invisible patterns on the taut skin of her stomach. _

_ «I’m done playing around, Zelda. I want something serious, something that lasts and- well, I want it to be with you.» _

With the morning lights seeping in from the blinders, Zelda woke up without a startle for the first time in more than six months. Breathing deeply as she tried to ward off the slumber, she gladly noticed her chest wouldn’t expand much, and, glancing down on herself, she smiled at the reason: Mary’s arm still secured around her torso, seemingly trapped between the swell of her stomach and her breasts.

Zelda leaned further into the warmth radiating from the other woman’s body, still molded around her own, chest heaving deeply against her back as she slept, legs framing hers, almost into a caging hold - Zelda didn’t mind, she didn’t mind a bit: waking up like this, knowing she was there, was something similar to magic.

And her smile grew even wider at the realization that if they were currently like this, and she could feel Mary breathing slowly into the back of her hair, it meant that they didn’t move throughout the whole night.

And then she also realized that Hilda must’ve seen them, that she must’ve been aware that Mary had spent the night because no matter how special the day was, she would eventually have to go to sleep, and upon doing so, she’d found the usual spot on her sister’s bed occupied. Zelda could almost picture her sister entering the bedroom, tiptoeing in, flicking the lights on, and then freezing on the doorway while a fond smile spread on her lips; she could see her back up, maybe padding into the guests' room, beaming, hardly managing to suppress those funny squeals that were typical of hers when something was particularly delightful, in her opinion.

Hilda was happy when Zelda was happy, and it was heartwarming; so many times her sister had begged her to smile more often in those past months, secretly pleading for Zelda’s happiness, and now she had it, finally, Hilda could stop worrying about that cruel destiny that wasn’t even her own: she had a duty to herself and it was unfair that she had been forced to pause her life because Zelda hadn’t been able to cope with her own. It was time to change things because her sweet sister deserved the world and she would’ve done anything in her power to make her dreams fulfilled.  
Perhaps she would’ve started to talk about wedding arrangements with her, that very morning too: it was the first day of the new year, something might as well change for the best.

She glanced around the room, trying to figure out what time it was without moving around too much - her phone on the bedside table suddenly so far away - and deciding it was still early, she closed her eyes back and basked into that warm embrace... for a couple of seconds before a loud, unpleasant buzz startled her, and she unwillingly jerked, heart pounding in her chest, she snapped her eyes open just to see her phone screen glow.

Zelda growled, hand scrambling around messily to retrieve the offending object and shush it for good.

«Sorry, sorry-» She began to chant, as soon as she felt Mary rousing behind her. The woman moaned, utterly displeased, and still half-asleep, she tightened her hold on Zelda’s body, making all her effort to stretch over her arms even harder. «Mary, let me just- grab my phone.» She whined though a giggle escaped her lips when the other grunted again.

«Ugh, make it stop.» She slurred in her hair, still clutching.

«I’m trying.» Zelda pointed out, reluctantly unhooking her arms from her torso so she could finally tap on the screen and turn off the alarm.

Growling, she flopped back on her pillow, heaving a sharp breath. There was a flutter in her stomach now, suddenly aware of Mary’s presence beside her, in her own bed, arm still thrown over her, almost protectively. Zelda rolled on her back, and just carefully peeked at the woman by her side with the corner of her eye: Mary had her eyes closed, her hair was tousled despite the little movements, and the smallest of smiles was painted on her lips.

Zelda stared at her.

«Good morning.» She chirped. «Happy new year.»

«Back to you.» Mary replied, stirring finally, and only now attempting to effectively wake up, eyelids still heavy with slumber. «Now, pray tell, why do you have an alarm set for today? Don’t you sleep in when it’s festive?» She growled, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles and hardly suppressing a yawn. «Strange _, strange_ woman _._ » She muttered finally, clearing her throat when she finally deemed herself awake, blue eyes settling on Zelda, boring on her.

«I’m sorry,» the redhead winced, «this alarm is meant to go off every day with no exceptions.» she told, hand gravitating on the underside of her belly just like any morning, stroking lightly on a particular spot; it had become a habit now as if to greet the baby, who usually kicked or stirred, anything really to greet Zelda back. Clockwork, the baby moved and made her smile fondly.

«Why.» Came Mary’s voice, perplexed, eyes narrowed as she propped herself on the elbow and slowly retrieved the arm that was still resting on her chest.

«It’s just… something I have to do.» Zelda bit the inside of her cheek, somehow feeling exposed with revealing something that, honestly was nothing but normal, mandatory even.

«Medicine for your blood pressure?» She guessed, frowning.

Zelda shook her head slowly.

«No.» Her lips remained ajar as if she was ready to tell her mode, but then she didn’t. If Mary sensed her hesitancy - it was impossible not to - she didn’t point it out; her blue eyes merely hovered from her face to her belly, and gave a smile.

«May I use the bathroom?» She asked then, pulling herself up and stretched to grab her glasses from the nightstand, moaning in discomfort as she did so.

That position might’ve been the most comfortable for Zelda, but clearly not for the other party - Hilda often lamented a sore shoulder or back in the morning, but the complaint usually remained one, since the next night she would hold her just the same.

«Of course,» she nodded, pushing herself slightly up, propping her back against the headboard, «there’s a clean towel by the sink you can use.»

«Thank you.» Mary surprised her with a quick peck on the temple before gingerly climbing off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom.

The fact that she didn’t feel the need to lock the door on her back - merely pushing it with no much effort - just set a warm pang to Zelda’s heart: it was not a matter of trust, but rather one of being comfortable around each other and that was just one tiny proof of it.

Heaving a sigh, she decided it was a good time to fulfill that alarm’s purpose and she stuffed her pillow in the crook on the small of her back, then flushed her body upright against the headboard; collecting her legs and pressing the soles together, she pulled her joint feet toward her pelvis and started to count in her head as she did her routine sets of Kegels exercises, breathing steady and deep.

Hilda would usually suggest her to meditate, and she would do just that, for a couple of minutes, before letting her mind gravitate on her life, and her happy thoughts and imaginary scenes of placid rivers and fields turned into much more consistent and earthly images of a familiar face and even more familiar pair of blue eyes, and a familiar hold, the same that had kept her cocooned for the entire night.

She smiled at the sensation, hoping the pillow would keep her scent for the nights to come so Zelda could pretend Mary was still beside her tomorrow and the day after that.  
What about the next week?  
Things would stay like this?  
Would they move forward, talk, marvel at some heartwarming developments?  
In a week, she would enter her seventh month. And that would involve a whole different set of new things… things that weren’t supposed to be approached like that.

Despite having Hilda and Sabrina and Ambrose, she could feel it in her soul that it wasn’t enough, because it wasn’t the plan, she hadn’t agreed to this.

She snapped her eyes open, throat tightening as she lost count of her exercises, ears tingling with the distant noise of the water running in the other room.

It was the first day of the year, the day of beginning, promises, of renewal - and she couldn’t simply lay forever in waiting, not now especially.

«Mary?» She called, trying to imagine what she was doing there.

«Almost done.» She replied hurriedly.

«Take your time.» the redhead reassures, worrying at her lip, gaze lost somewhere in the room.

She stretched out her legs - the collected position practically purposeless now - and absentmindedly cupped her belly. Could she really use the baby as an excuse to investigate? Did she have any other, less immoral, option? But then again, she wasn’t really profiting if she was merely asking for unreserved help? Yes, _Zelda be damned_ if that was unreserved.

She took a deep breath and braced herself for courage, or recklessness, she couldn’t really tell.

«Mary, I have to ask you something.»

«What is it?» The woman asked from the adjacent room, her face peeking from behind the door frame, hair still tousled, drying her hands on the towel.

Zelda swallowed thickly when she disappeared again, but at the same time, she felt words falling out of her mouth easily without Mary’s inquiring gaze on her.

«You see, the due date is approaching,» she said, trying her best to make it sound like a normal chitchat when the topic was clearly far from it, «and soon I’ll have to- I mean, the doctor suggested–»

«What?» Mary demanded, appearing on the door and quickly walking toward the bed, plopping herself onto the duvet, eyes wide in concern. «Why didn’t you tell me something was wrong?»

«Nothing’s wrong!» Zelda replied promptly, unable to suppress the fond smile that crept on her lips at the woman’s apprehension, which was now quickly fading. «The doctor suggested some specific exercises to ease the delivery. I decided to do it at home, but I’ll need a- a _partner_.» She blurted out, the word raw on the tip of her tongue. She had asked Hilda when the doctor first mentioned it and her sister agreed with enthusiasm; nonetheless, they both knew something was amiss, that it wasn’t right. It seemed like the best occasion to change things.

«Partner?» Mary echoed.

The redhead’s breath hitched, and she gasped at the woman’s blank expression.

«Just the training.» She specified, averting her eyes, suddenly unable to support her blue gaze. «I’m not asking you to assist me during the actual labor- I mean, if you don’t want to–»

«Zelda, stop rambling.» The other woman interrupted, hand swiftly gravitating toward her cheek, cupping her face, grounding both Zelda and her errant thoughts. She was smiling tenderly and the world, for Zelda, stopped spinning around. «Of course I’ll do it.»

«Really?» Zelda stared, blinking slowly when a soft giggle chimed in her ears.

«Why are you surprised?» Mary asked, an amused smirk spreading on her lips as an answer. «And- if you’ll have me, for the birth too.»

Zelda felt a grip holding her throat. Suddenly at a loss of words, head light and deliciously blank, she barely nodded, sight getting clouded as tears gathered at the corner of her eyes.

Now _that_ was right. That was how it was supposed to be since the beginning, or partially, at least. Because Mary would be there and not the one who she had planned the whole thing with; Mary was the closest thing, but, however she would put it, Mary was not Lilith.

Zelda drew in a sharp breath. It was the first time in a long time she was actually regretting not having her wife - actually her wife - near. Because Mary was good, Mary was perfect and sweet and so willing to participate, but was she enough?

«Zelda, what is it now?»

The brunette’s voice pulled her out from her stream of thoughts.

«Nothing.» She hurriedly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and let out a wet sob, hating how pitiful she sounded. Mary was giving everything she had and Zelda was weeping on her: it was unfair and ungrateful on her behalf and the redhead hated herself even more.

«What are you afraid of?»

And there she was again: reading Zelda like an open book.

The redhead gasped silently, her mouth falling open and closing a few times before a resigned chuckle escaped her lips. It was impossible, for how much she’d tried, to escape the woman’s ability, nor her inquiring eyes. Zelda was trapped in the most delicious of cages and she couldn’t make up her mind about wanting to flee or stay.

«I’m afraid,» she breathed out, «I’m afraid- I’ll be alone.» She mumbled, shoulders shrugging dismissively.

«I thought I made myself clear, Zelda. Do you–» the woman paused, thumb tentatively resting on the apple of the cheek. «Do you doubt my intentions? You know you won’t be alone.»

Zelda could see the hurt glimmering behind her glasses. She felt awful by saying those things because she could never be alone with a family like hers and not with Mary by her side, but that was just the truth, those were her feelings and that was her only fear. They would all be there, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Mary would be there, but as what? A friend, her exercise partner, a possible companion? Could she still hope for Lilith to come back in time? Because the hope never left her for one moment. Would she have to do with  _ just Mary _ , and for what? For how much time, still? Would she have to wait for Lilith to come back or for Mary to get closer until the end of days?

The very idea made her sick with dread.

«Mary, I-» She drew a sharp breath, eyes fluttering close, «I need things. And I know I won’t settle for half of it- or for half of  _ you _ .»

«Half of me?» Echoed the other woman flinching back in confusion.

Zelda was waiting for her to drop her hand from her cheek, bracing herself to feel the loss of touch altogether, but it didn’t happen. She released the breath she was holding and slowly, carefully, she turned her head to face Mary, the tip of her tongue running between the seam of her lip.

«Whatever we have- whatever this is,» She sighed, gesturing vaguely back and forth between them, «it’s good and it’s beautiful, and it makes me so happy,» she attempted to smile, but only a wet sob followed her words, «you have no idea how much, after I thought I’ve lost everything–»

«But?» Mary urged, hand clasping firmer at her cheek and neck, the tip of her fingers digging into her hair; her eyes shimmering, begging, pleading.

«But I’m running out of time. I need to know, right now.» Zelda blurted out with ragged breaths, articulating each word. «I’m scared because this is all wrong... because it shouldn’t have gone like that, and I do not want to do this alone. I need–»

The wind was knocked out of her lungs when Mary kissed her.

Her hand still cupping Zelda’s cheek fondly, she’d drawn her face closer and shushed her rambling with her mouth, lips colliding into a longed-for touch, simple, and yet so overwhelming.

Zelda could only wonder if she was awake; those soft lips she’d dreamed about for months felt and tasted like home. She smiled and cried all together, because she’d missed everything so dearly that now she couldn’t really believe it was happening.

«Now, have I made myself clear?» The woman breathed against her mouth, thumbs collecting fresh tears, wiping them away from her cheeks.

Zelda took her in through a blurry gaze and realized that Mary had never looked so beautiful.

End Part Two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think: **I really need your support**. Make me happy! Thank you ♡


	25. Undercurrent woe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

**Chapter 25 - Undercurrent woe**

«Who would’ve thought: crying on New Year.» Zelda hiccupped, pulling away so she could wipe her skin clean with her hands, yet tears were streaming down her cheeks with no intention to stop and she ended up making quite a mess, only spreading the wetness around her face.

«At least they’re happy tears.» Mary replied, gnawing nervously at her bottom lip, and the redhead let out a breathy laugh, nodding confusedly.

«Happy tears.» She confirmed, b lindly moving her hand on the bedside table to retrieve a tissue and finally clean her face, and even blew her nose for good measure. «I must look like a horrendous mess.» She commented, voice thick with the residues of her weeping.

«You’re certainly not a horrendous mess, Zelda.» Mary reassured with a soft voice and by how she sounded, it was clear she was smiling too. «I find it quite enthralling, instead, knowing that just a little peck on your lips from me can cause so much distress.»

«It’s not just that.» The redhead replied, almost without thinking through. It was obvious she could be referring to a load of stuff, but in reality, Zelda was only thinking about the present and her current situation: behind an apparent small gesture like a chaste kiss on the lips, meant that Mary was in, that she was in _completely_. «Thank you, Mary.»

The redhead smiled, and her eyes fluttered close - the last tears falling down her eyelashes - when she felt the brunette’s knuckle tracing the underside of her eye, and then pushing a strand of copper hair behind her ear.

Helplessly, Zelda leaned into the touch.

She breathed slowly, basking into the warm sensation, until Mary withdrew her hand and her eyes snapped open in a daze, almost outraged by the loss of contact.

Zelda stared at her - blue eyes gazing at hers, teeth flashing over her lip - and silently inquired for some sort of explanation.

«So, what do we do now?» Mary chirped out, exhaling sharply.

The other woman nodded, suddenly aware: her family.  
Her family must be informed about the current situation and, most importantly, Zelda needed their approval for whatever she was doing. She had duties and she needed their blessing.

«I should talk to them.» The redhead nodded, getting a long intake of breath, and bore it down as her lungs expanded.

«Is there- like a safe way to sneak out?» Mary winced, looking around. «I’m too old to climb down the gutters.» She quipped.

Zelda grunted and squinted her eyes.

«I think we’re very much past our teenage years, Mary.» She scoffed, patting gently her belly as evidence. The thought of having the woman run away from her house like a thief was absolutely ridiculous, besides, what was the point in hiding?

«You want to tell them _now_?» The brunette asked, eyebrow cocked.

«Stay for breakfast.» Zelda proposed, teeth scraping at the inside of her cheek. They were adults, her family was on their side from day one and, frankly, there was no point in delaying the thing like there was no point in hiding their budding… relationship? Well, yes, it was anything but complicated, but it was something. Something good, extremely so, and overall, the thought of it made her eager to share with the people she loved the most.

«Wait here for a moment.» Unhooking her hand from Mary’s - and taking in how empty her fingers felt without hers squeezing back - Zelda climbed down the stairs, hand gripping the handrail because she didn’t trust her own trepidation. She left the brunette in the middle of the staircase, amidst the levels of the house, and padded her way to the kitchen where the familiar voices already warmed her heart.

«Good morning.» She greeted, walking steadily into the room. She surprised Sabrina - sitting head on the table and giving her back to her - with a kiss on the crown of her head and blew a kiss to Ambrose, who promptly returned it, faking a vexed eye-roll.

«Good morning to you, sister.» Hilda said, gleefully as always, but Zelda promptly identified the tinge of loving tease in her voice.

She was flipping blueberry pancakes that made her mouth water, and couldn’t help but notice that, besides the two plates already empty in front of their nephews, there were three more plates set up on the counter ready to be filled - not two, but _three_.

She was about to walk toward her sister and silently ask for her support to drop the news, but she felt Sabrina’s arms deftly wrapping around her middle, cheek flushed against the side of her belly, and she was forced to stop, and she smiled because Sabrina was often affectionate and cuddly, but so early in the morning, it was a rare occasion.

«Hi baby cuz,» she cooed, «did you let Auntie Zee sleep tonight?»

Zelda smiled fondly, her hand combing through her wheat hair, fixing the wild waves she almost surely forgot to brush.

«Surprisingly, yes.» She confessed, and at that moment, she knew she’d drawn all the attention to her, because that was truly a miracle. If she didn’t provide an explanation, it would’ve been weird and suspicious. «Or, well, maybe not too surprisingly.» She corrected, averting her eyes from Sabrina, who had tilted her head up, a deep, inquiring frown scrunching her whole face.

«How did you guys manage that?» She wondered with a small voice, clearly confused.

This time, Zelda had to look down, and watched as the girl glanced back and forth at her aunts.

«Oh, don’t look at me, love.» Hilda scoffed, smirking, then gave them her back and returned to her pancakes.

Zelda narrowed her eyes: so her sister got herself out of it and passed the bunk to her - which was fair, on second thought, and gave Zelda the choice of telling or not. She would tell, of course she would. Why would she keep such joyful news to herself, when her family was so eager to be involved?

«Mary helped, she stayed the night.» She said, and as soon as the words left her mouth, she felt a burden being lifted from her shoulders.

«Oh, I thought I heard noises coming from one of the spare rooms.» Commented Sabrina, still clutching at her, though her arms felt looser now.

Zelda instinctively lifted her glance and sighed when she saw her sister looking back from above her shoulder. They exchanged a knowing look: once again, Hilda would let Zelda decide whether to tell or not.

And so she took a shallow breath to gather a little bit of courage and did just that. 

«If you heard noises coming from one of the guest rooms, it was your aunt Hilda, darling.» She said calmly, staring down at Sabrina as her confused frown appeared on her soft features again. A quick glance at Ambrose and she noticed he too was lost, fork hanging by his mouth, kept ajar, the pancake dripping syrup into the dish below. «Mary slept in my room.»

Ambrose let out an impressed gasp and shoved the pancake into his mouth, bobbing his head up and down approvingly, while Sabrina beamed, squealing in delight, tightening her hold once more.

«Auntie Zee, that’s awesome!» She cried out ecstatically.

She felt her heart swell and break at the same time: because everyone was all so happy for something that, perhaps, wasn’t even there. And she adored them because they were all supportive, but they also misunderstood her words and that made her painfully aware of how complicated the situation was.

«It’s not what you think.» She sighed, hand still stroking her niece’s head in a soothing motion, not sure if she was doing so for the girl or for herself.

«So she… doesn’t remember?» Ambrose inquired, eyes squinted.

Zelda shook her head slowly.

« _ Mary _ spent the night.» She repeated, stressing on the name to make sure that everyone got that particular: it meant that  _ Mary  _ slept - and that only - with her, in her room, she helped her with the baby;  _ Mary  _ did all of that. Mary was entering the family and there wasn’t more to it. «Is that alright with you?» She asked, gaze laying on each and every one of them.

«Auntie,» Ambrose frowned, grabbing a steaming mug of tea in his hand and taking a long sip, «we just want you to be happy.»

«Of course it’s alright, love.» Hilda chirped supportively, filling up the plates.

Zelda looked down at Sabrina when she felt her nod against her, still clutching.

«I love you all.» The redhead whispered, absolutely grateful for having such people to call family. Yes, Hilda and she had done a fine job raising those kids.

«Well, Auntie, where did you hide her?» Chuckled Ambrose, leaning back in his chair, glancing around impatiently.

«She’s waiting on the stairs, I wanted to talk to you first.»

«The poor thing.» Hilda chuckled, putting the plates on the table. «Well go on, call her, you don’t want to eat cold pancakes!»

And so she called her, beckoning the woman to join her family into the kitchen to share the first breakfast of the New Year. It wasn’t the first time they ate together, but it felt different, because a lot of things happened since those days, and Mary wasn’t there out of necessity, but because they both chose to have her there.

Zelda ate with gusto, eyes starved for the domesticity of the situation, with Sabrina and Ambrose and Hilda chatting with Mary about last night, begging her to share her secret to become a baby whisperer, and she laughed, claiming that witches never revealed their magic. Zelda let them talk, she listened to them without engaging in their conversation, taking a sip from her mug ever so often, just basking into that tranquility.

When the general chatting faded, Ambrose left to make some calls, and Sabrina and Mary were exchanging book titles on one end of the table, Zelda seized the opportunity to scoot to the other end and get close to her sister.

«When is Cee coming back?» She asked, hardly concealing a smirk, which of course didn’t go unnoticed.

«He should come back to Greendale this evening, we’re having him over for dinner.» Hilda informed, reminding her of pre-existing agreements. The redhead nodded. «Is Mary staying too?»

«I haven’t asked her yet.» She winced. «Don’t you think it’ll be too much?» She asked, lowering her voice even though the distance was enough to make both conversions inaudible by the other couple.

«I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened.» Hilda pointed out, perching on the table as if to make herself smaller.

It was fair. Zelda gnawed at the inside of her cheek and took a small breath.

«We held each other and slept.» The redhead said hurriedly. «And this morning we talked a little about the exercises for the labor and-»

«She accepted?» Her sister interrupted.

«Yes, she accepted.» Zelda sighed, glaring a little.

«That’s great, isn’t it?»

«It is.» She agreed. «But we also- we  _ kissed _ .» Zelda said, and she was beaming, and she wanted to scream, but the word only came out with a whisper.

Hilda, on the other hand, let out an excited wheeze, promptly covering her mouth not to distract Mary or Sabrina from their conversation.

«Are things going back to normal, then?» She asked excitedly, eyes glimmering.

«In a way, I hope so.» Zelda confessed, wringing her fingers around the mug. «It’s definitely something, though.»

Hilda nodded, and reached out, holding her fingers with her own. It was a comforting squeeze, full of love and support and Zelda was grateful for her, and she hoped her sister knew how much she loved her.

«I’m so happy for you, sister.»

«I know you are.» The redhead giggled, then threw a serious glance at her. «And now that things are better for me, I wanted to talk about you.»

«Me? What about me?» The younger woman jerked away, confusion spreading on her face. Her sister was giving her that scared look she used to have all the time when they were little, big eyes wide in panic, body tense, which made Zelda want to hug her and kiss the fear away.

«Calm down, Hildie, I just wanted to talk about the wedding.» Zelda said softly, patting on the back of her hand. At that, the woman lowered her eyes. «I thought you and Cee were planning to get married this year.»

«Yes, but a lot happened, Zelds.» She replied, matter-of-factly, voice grave. «We didn’t want to rub our happiness in your face and- well, in general, it felt disrespectful.»

«I understand that, but you should’ve talked to me before taking this decision.»

«You would’ve told me to go ahead with the wedding.»

«Precisely.» Zelda nodded. «Besides, now things  _ are  _ better and I don’t see why you should delay the wedding again. For goodness sake, this family is in desperate need of a happy event.»

«I guess you’re right.» Hilda beamed, giving a little wheeze, unable to contain the newborn excitement within her. «You think we can arrange it for Valentine’s day?»

«You want to get married on the anniversary of your first kiss?» Zelda wondered, eyebrow cocked, because it sounded strangely familiar.

«You got married on the anniversary of your first kiss, so I can only hope to have what you have, sister.» Hilda said sincerely, squirming impatiently on her chair. «I mean, you still managed to find each other, it’s- really something, you know. You’re extremely lucky, despite everything.»

Glancing over the table, where Mary was laughing with Sabrina, and helplessly smiling when she felt the baby move inside of her, she nodded. Zelda knew her sister was right: she was indeed lucky.

Despite the plan being different, Mary stayed for lunch. They played a board game together, Sabrina begged her to stay for tea, and she didn’t even have to use her pout for the brunette to turn to both Zelda and Hilda, silently asking for their blessings, which was, of course, promptly given.

And when the girl required everyone to watch a movie, neither of the adults had the heart to say no to the pout she, in that case, strategically threw. So Hilda heated up some popcorn, and Ambrose grunted playfully as he settled a blanket on the carpet to claim his and Sabrina’s usual spot, and Zelda curled up on the couch, half-slouching on one of its padded armrest for support, and silently beckoned Mary to settle beside her.

She was glad that her nephews were arguing about the movies, not paying too much attention to the event happening behind their backs: because it was an event, for as simple as it looked, of the two of them sitting side by side, both relaxed, about to watch a movie with the rest of the family just like any other day before that accident. Hilda was peeking, of course, but still managing to beam at the view without making it obvious.

«Are you warm enough?»

Zelda nodded, helplessly smiling at Mary who was draping the blanket across their legs, rearranging it so the hem could reach their feet.

«So what will it be?» Hilda asked impatiently, settling a larger bowl of popcorn on the carpet for Sabrina and Ambrose, right beside their drinks.

«I want to watch Gremlins!» The boy stated, holding the DVD in his hand and stretching it above his head, laughing when his cousin started to jump, attempting to snatch it out of his grasp.

«We’ve watched it already only a few days ago!» Sabrina complained, huffing in frustration when she realized it was helpless. Clutching at her own selected DVD, she spun around and looked directly into Zelda’s eyes, her gaze sad and miserable. «Auntie Zee!» She whined.

«It’s Sabrina’s turn, Ambrose.» The redhead said softly, backing her niece, who immediately turned upside down her frown into a bright smile.

«Always the Auntie’s girl.» He commented with a playful tone, putting back his DVD in defeat.

«What do you have there, darling?» Hilda asked curiously.

While Ambrose set up the television and got ready with the remote, Sabrina proudly showed the Platinum 70th Anniversary Edition of  _ It’s a Wonderful Life _ .

«It’s our favorite!» She beamed excitedly, immediately throwing a glance at Mary, who didn’t quite catch the implication - unlike everybody else. Sabrina cleared her throat at the honest mistake and turned over the DVD to Ambrose, managing to play it cool as she laid on her stomach on the carpet, her feet up in the air.

Lilith and Sabrina used to love that movie. That limited edition, in fact, was one of the many gifts that the brunette had brought home unexpectedly, for no particular occasion, turning a normal day into a special one.

«Everyone’s comfy?» Asked Ambrose, laying down beside his cousin and shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

«Ambrose!» Zelda scolded, glaring at him. «Slow down, I don’t want you to choke!»

«I won’t choke, Aunt Zee, relax!» He laughed at her, clearly amused with himself when Sabrina and Hilda chuckled as well, making the woman’s admonishing practically nonexistent.

«Whatever will I do with you guys?» She said dramatically, shaking her head slowly. «How many babies will I have to deal with?»

«Just one.» Sabrina assured, throwing an outraged glare at the redhead from above her shoulder.

«I’m not too sure of that, Sabrina.» Zelda quipped when she watched the girl grimacing in discontent. «If I remember correctly, you came to your Aunt Hilda and me, not many nights ago, because you had a bad dream.»

«Hey, you didn’t have to expose me like that!» Sabrina complained, frowning deeply and scattering beside the couch, curling up against Zelda’s leg.

«Sulking won’t validate your thesis, darling.» She pointed out, reaching up to stroke her hair. The girl gave a little scoff, but her frown had already faded when the intro of the movie started playing on the screen, and the familiar song filled the room.

«Fine. Three,» Sabrina conceded with a smirk, «but two big babies and only a small one.» She clarified with a serious glare.

«How will we manage, Hildie?» The redhead quipped with a diverted smile, to which her sister laughed and shrugged.

«We managed two, we’ll manage three.» She declared with a confident tilt of her head, tilting to an imaginary toast with her glass of soda.

A comfortable silence fell upon them while the movie played, but Zelda couldn’t stay focused: Mary was too distant, but when after a few moments they both shifted, she was suddenly too close, and the redhead realized she didn’t know how to act, exactly. She had her family’s blessing, yes, but saying something was different for seeing it. Was it too soon? Hadn’t she waited enough?

She swallowed thickly, her body growing tense when she felt Mary scoot over, leaning the nape of her back to the backrest and tilting her head to the side - hot breath fanning her neck.

«And I’ll help as well.» Mary whispered, out of the blue. «If you’ll have me.»

Zelda slowly turned to her, encouraged by everyone’s interest in the movie, and she felt overwhelmed, for an instant, by the closeness between them: Mary looked relaxed, a few inches away, blue eyes glimmering, the black and white movie casting curious lights and shadows across her skin.

«Of course I’ll have you, Mary.» The redhead whispered back.

As seconds passed, they all felt more and more comfortable, and halfway through the movie, when she leaned forward to reach for the soda she’d asked Sabrina, Zelda noticed she was actually leaning on Mary’s shoulder. She looked back, slightly embarrassed, and asked if that was alright with just a glance - would she understand? The brunette nodded, and when Zelda fell back on her, hesitantly resting her head on her shoulder, temple pressing against her neck, Mary wrapped her into a loose hug, and into a warm cocoon made of blankets.

Zelda stayed there contently for the rest of the movie, even drifting off at some point - how could she not, since she knew every little detail by heart - but then suddenly snapped her eyes open, the realization hitting her like a thunderlight: that movie was the worst thing they could watch right now.

After all, the protagonist was about to go through the terrible ordeal of having everybody forget about him - family, friends, loved one, his children - and it was similar to their situation, only in reverse.

It wasn’t Lilith who had been forgotten, but the other way around. Would Mary be upset? Would she think about the same things?

Zelda began to worry at her lip, concerned that the woman would gasp and tense at any moment, but nothing happened, and she just kept watching the movie, reacting along with the others, but nothing too extreme.

And the redhead frowned because she was kind of waiting for her to reflect the happenings on the screen onto herself. It didn’t happen.  _ Just Mary _ .  
Forgetting about her family wasn’t Mary’s problem, because she was starting a new one.

It felt reassuring, but incredibly sad, on the other way, because it wasn’t like accepting a deal now, it was accepting that Lilith was - temporarily - gone. For real.

She curled back again on the woman’s side, and despite her thoughts, a smile crept on her lips when she felt her hands sneaking reassuringly on her side, stroking absent-mindedly at her hip bone.

It was good, even if something felt off; Zelda needed to get accustomed to it. She would be fine. They would all be. Even the protagonist, in the movie, after realizing how marvelous his existence was, how important he was to everyone who knew him, there was a happy ending.

She let her eyelids flutter close when she felt Mary pressing her lips to her temple and everyone started to sing  _ auld lang syne _ as the final credits rolled on the screen.

Zelda mouthed some of the words, because it was tradition, and they would usually yell and shout and make silly voices, but of course Mary wasn’t participating, merely bobbing her head and laughing while the children sang purposely off-key.

And then the redhead stopped because she didn’t want it to end just yet. She glanced at the mantel clock and bit at the inside of her cheek, angling her head so she could look up at her without moving too much.

«Would you stay for dinner as well?» She inquired, not caring to sound too needy or pushy. After all, if she wanted to go, Mary would tell her.

«I think I have intruded enough, Zelda.» The brunette chuckled, giving a tight smile.

The younger woman tried her best not to look disappointed, and just nodded, resting her head back on her shoulder, as if to prolong her departure in any way possible.

«Please stay!» Sabrina pleaded instead, throwing big, sad eyes to them both, clearly unsure which woman was her best option: Mary herself, or her aunt in order to convince the other to stay - maybe hoping that Zelda still owned that woman.

«Yes, stay!» Hilda joined with excitement, «Cee will be here in half an hour and he’ll bring all sorts of stuff from Canada.»

«It’ll be fun.» Ambrose added with a meeker tone, but he was secretly pleading as well, even if not as openly as the other two.

«In that case,» Mary sighed and her smile grew into a genuine one, «it would be rude not to accept.» She concluded, nodding slightly, then looking down at the beaming woman curled up on her shoulder.

It was New Year all over again when Cee arrived to celebrate with them. The ate soup and talked and laughed at his stories about his crazy relatives they only met once during the wedding - of course, none of them mentioned that part - and about the even crazier tradition they had for the holidays.  
After they finished eating, it was presents time: Cee would often shower them with presents and souvenirs, and after the first few times they tried to tell him off, because it wasn’t necessary, they all realized that bringing gifts to them and seeing their happiness, brought happiness back to him. He was a precious soul, a kind man and he adored the children, so Zelda simply knew he was the right one for her sister, and couldn’t be more glad to have brought up the wedding issue at breakfast. Cee and Hilda had to get married and share their happiness with the world - at least with the family.

«You’re already on a sugar rush, I’ll keep these.» Giggled Hilda as she retrieved the three maxi bottles of original Maple Syrup to later hide it in one of the counters, and both Sabrina and Ambrose whined in annoyance.

Zelda pouted too, but managed to pass unnoticed.

«And I’ve got mittens for everybody!» The man announced, fishing into his enormous bag to retrieve six pairs of wooly gloves of different sizes but otherwise identical. As if he was dealing the cards, he tossed them to everyone: Ambrose, Hilda, Sabrina, Zelda - she was given hers and another small set as well - and Mary.

The woman looked up in surprise, mouth agape.

«I thought the sixth pair was for you.» She mumbled back, dumbstruck.

«I already put mine to use,» Cee assured with a wink, «I thought it would be nice for all of us to have matching mittens.» He said with glee, snatching Ambrose’s pair and playing with one glove as it was a puppet, eliciting giggles from everywhere around the table.

«Thank you.» Mary chirped, clearly moved, and proudly showed her mittens to Zelda.

The redhead nodded, unable to stop smiling, when the realization that they would all match - Mary, and the baby as well - for everyone to see that they were, in fact, a family. Through pairs of red gloves with snowflakes on them; it was cheesy and incredibly sweet.

She fought back the tears, but she lost the battle when Cee presented her a fluffy stuffed animal, a moose to be exact, demanding for it to be put in the nursery as one of the very first gifts to the baby.

«Thank you.» She hiccupped, leaning into Mary’s arm, who promptly had wrapped it around her shoulders, on the back of the chair.

«You made Auntie Zee cry!» Sabrina giggled, though a sympathetic pout appeared on her lips, clearly unsure whether she was supposed to be amused by such reaction or getting protective and just yell at the poor man.

«Thank you for pointing it out, Sabrina.» The woman scoffed, wiping at her eyes with her napkin; actually, she was wondering when the hormones would kick in, causing her to make a fool of herself by weeping at silly things like that.

«Happy tears?» Mary asked with a smirk, running soothing circled between her shoulders, rubbing the sniveling away.

«Happy tears.» Zelda nodded, her grimace quickly turning into a smile.

Cee gave a relieved sigh at that, guilt already dissipating.

«And then I have the big one,» He announced with a silly low voice, «I hope you don’t mind it’s for Mrs. Lovett only.»

«We don’t mind.» Ambrose assured with a diverted tone, leaning back on the chair.

Hilda wheezed in excitement when she received a nicely wrapped box with a bow. And it wasn’t big in size, but it was clear as day to everyone that it was important. They all perched on their chairs, stretching their necks as Hilda squealed and ripped at the paper, and then gasped, eyes watery and head tilted up, demanding to receive a kiss as a garnish to the present.

« _ All good things come to those who can wait _ .» She read the engraving on the antique necklace adorned with a cameo on the front. For a moment, Hilda and Zelda’s gazes locked, it was brief, but it was enough: it was a Sweny Todd reference, it was meant for Hilda, but she would gladly share the waiting with her sister. One that wouldn’t last long anymore, hopefully, for neither of them.

But then, in the end, the hour to parting arrived. And for as much as she wanted to ask - or even beg - Mary to stay and spend the night, the brunette had important business to sort out in the morning that couldn’t be delayed more, and although reluctant from her leaving as well, she claimed she had to go back to the cottage.

After Mary gave goodbyes and goodnights to everyone, Zelda escorted her to the parlor, one of grandma’s shawls tightly wrapped around her shoulders when she stepped out into the freezing night, the warm yellow light coming from inside casting shadows on their faces.

«Will you call me tomorrow morning?» Zelda asked, and even if she didn’t mean to sound so sheepish, she did.

«Of course.» Mary assured, worrying at her lip. «Will you be fine tonight?»

The redhead nodded, smiling at her concern.

«Sabrina will probably claim the empty spot in my bed.» She assured, already conflicted because she was happy she wouldn’t be spending the night alone, but either the girl would steal the covers or ask the most obnoxious things in the dead of the night after having one of her revelations - which lately all revolved about going to broadway to become the next Elaine Paige and then having the frights because she never took singing lessons.

«Thank you for having me these days, Zelda.» Murmured the brunette, stepping back to the door, closer to the other woman.

«Thank you for being here, Mary. It meant a lot for us- for me.» She confessed and pressed her lips together for a moment before closing the distance between them, tilting her head up.

When Mary promptly got the cue and drew her mouth to meet hers, they shared yet another kiss. It wasn’t hurried, it wasn’t greedy, but it was just right: sweet and soft, eyelids fluttering close when they both deepened the contact, Mary’s hand gently cupping her cheek.

It tasted like promises and good night and ' _ hope to see you very soon' _ . Zelda felt her heart clench and swell at the same time, and by the shallow breath Mary gave, in the end, she knew the woman was feeling the same. 

«I’ll wait for your call.» The redhead murmured, teeth scraping at her moistened lip, her breath turning into a white cloud.

«We’ll arrange a date.» Mary nodded, a mild blush on the apples of her cheeks, while her thumb ghosted at the corner of the other’s mouth.

«Drive safe.» Zelda warned, sighing when she felt her hand slipping away, Mary turning and leaving for good now.

She breathed in the chilly air when she watched Mary hurrying to her car, darkness engulfing her a little more with every step she took. It was a splendid night, one of those cloudless skies up above, with thousands of pulsings stars embedded in it. And it felt familiar, so similar to the atmosphere that had been their background for their  _ other  _ first kiss. She closed her eyes, and let the words roll on her tongues, her mind gently laying on one of the old, most cherished memories of her, something that now seemed so distant.

« _ Beat, happy stars, timing with things below, _ » She whispered, and smiled when a freezing gush of wind swirled around her, inching in her nostrils, « _ beat with my heart more blest than heart can tell. _ »

She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the frozen air settling in her lungs, almost waking her.

« _ Blest, but for some dark undercurrent woe, that seems to draw - but it shall not be so. _ »

When she opened her eyes back, she noticed it was snowing. Slowly, with small flakes surely destined to melt before touching the ground - and it was all soundless, oh-so-quiet, she could only hear her heart thumping faster, getting warmer.

Patience. Knowing the seed would sprout, now, she could wait. Zelda was at peace because she knew she would, eventually, have everything - it was up to her to reach out and grasp it.

« _ Let all be well, be well. _ »

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • _All good things come to those who can wait._ from the song "Wait" (Sweeney Todd).  
> • Poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson (Vol.3)  
> This was originally the last chapter of Part Two, but then I thought it was better to finish with *the kiss*.  
> Due to work and other fics, I'll update less frequently, but just know that I won't abandon this story for any reason (and how could I?).
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think: **I really need your support**. Make me happy! Thank you ♡


	26. Pink camellias

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: @bleynd_asabat

**Chapter 26 - Pink camellias**

Zelda huffed, utterly frustrated, and slumped back in her office chair. Would something go right in her life? Or did just the world align to make it miserable under every single circumstance?

She eyed the table calendar on her desk and tried her best not to let panic settle in again: she had entered her seventh month of pregnancy, and she hadn’t even started to transform the spare room into a nursery.

Because, honestly, would she ever be in the right mood? Settle the nursery implied a series of things she didn’t really want to think about, and she was starting to hate that stuffed moose that would watch her and judge her every night from her vanity as if to enquire why she hadn’t started yet. Why? Because it was supposed to be a special event, and there was a part of her - even if a small one - that just couldn’t accept the passing of time. Was she scared of her life about to change again, though as excitedly as it sounded? She wasn’t just scared, she was _terrified_.

Setting up the nursery also implied a sort of ritual she wasn’t ready to take part in. She had started to convince herself that she would have to do everything alone only a few weeks ago, alone with her family, but now it was changing again. Would she do that with Mary, now? Shopping with her, arguing about the color of the walls, deciding which crib looked more comfortable, which stroller safer, whether it was alright to dress the baby in silly clothes with ears or puffy tales or use washable diapers? It was an exciting thought, and a scary one altogether: there was no going back because whatever would happen, they would be building new memories along - or atop? - the old ones, and those would be impossible to erase; just like it was supposed to be. Was it supposed to be like that? Was there another couple, or even person, who was going through the same ordeal somewhere in the world? It was highly unlikely: nobody could really understand her. Except for Mary, of course, who, however, stood on the other side.

Perhaps Hilda would’ve said that it was simply a big, romantic adventure and she was meant to enjoy the journey, make the most out of everything because her life was still beautiful and full of promises.  
And there was nothing more to say because her sister was right.

She would get whatever fate would throw at her and cherish every little thing, whether it would be with Mary, with her family, and, when the circumstances required so, even alone - because after all, she would never be really lonely.

But even though she could, temporarily, push the nursery issue in the back of her mind, she couldn’t do the same with Hilda’s wedding in five weeks.

Stubborn and proud as she was, Zelda had insisted on organizing the ceremony as an additional present to the couple, echoing the same things her sister did for her more than seven years prior. Hilda had arranged a splendid wedding in Canada and everything was perfect, so the redhead only felt in need to do the same for her darling sister, because she deserved the best.

She could cross out the menu, since that was Hilda’s area of expertise, but she was left with everything else, which was a lot. She thought she could settle everything with a few phone calls, but with such short notice, and with the gang of imbeciles she constantly stumbled upon, the simple and quiet commission she thought it would be, had turned out to be a perfect hellhole.

Taking a deep breath and repeatedly chanting in her head that she needed to calm down because it would be healthy for neither herself nor the baby, she picked up the phone and dialed the number with the back of her pencil, dragging the rotating plate from left to right, focusing on the familiar sound of the wheel going back on its own. She waited, mentally counting the static sounds, and then she waited a little more.

Accepting the fact that the selected florist wouldn’t answer her call, she clenched her jaw and slammed the receiver back in its place.

Leaning on the desk, face buried behind her hands, she barely registered the doorbell ringing and somebody going to the door to get whoever had decided to bother them in such a critical time. Maybe the Putnams, offering their help? All things considered, since every location had been denied to her, a country-themed wedding would have to do. But no, she couldn’t just settle for a sloppy second: Hilda deserved better. The Walkers? Sure, Roz’s father would gladly accept and probably grant her everything if they used his daughter for some extra begging, but that man was sketchy, and Hilda - nor she - didn’t like him so much.

Zelda needed to think more.

She startled, automatically grabbing the receiver and drawing it to her ear when the phone chimed.

«Spellman mortuary, how may I-» She took a shark intake of air when the man on the other side mumbled some broken apologies. «What do you mean you’re not available on Valentine’s day anymore?» Zelda frowned, gaping at the unprofessionalism the guy was showing. «Well, I don’t care if your highschool sweetheart is back in town just to see you- listen, no, I don’t need your apologies nor your services. Good day!»

«Zelds?»

«What?» She snapped, whipping her head up and glaring instinctively at her sister. When she saw Hilda’s mortified expression peeking from behind a shallow crack in the door, she heaved a sigh and tried her best to soften her grimace. «What is it?»

«I told you before and I’m going to tell you again,» the woman said, her voice firm, but her eyes wide, «I don’t want you to exert yourself over this. Cee and I will be perfectly content with a simple ceremony, you know that.»

«Hilda! The photographer just canceled on me!» She cried out, voice high.

«Let Ambrose do it, he’s perfectly capable.» Hilda offered, carefully opening the door a little more.

«I know he is.» The redhead huffed, leaning back in the chair again, frowning when she noticed that her sister wasn’t alone, and there were probably Sabrina and Ambrose behind her, whispering things into her ear: they were trying to make her desist for days now, but Zelda had made up her mind and she wasn’t keen on backing out so easily. She could do it. After all, a few phone calls were hardly exerting… just extremely stressful, sometimes.

«Look, we- I mean, _you_ have a visit.» Her sister chirped, tentatively smiling at her while she slid into the office, leaving the door open.

Zelda looked behind her and pursed her lips together when not only she noticed her nephews peeking in from the door frame, but Mary as well - wearing a casual attire with winter leggings, a fluffy sweater, hair down, and no glasses - giving her little waves as if she was greeting a toddler or so.

She must’ve been yelling more than she realized for having elicited such expression on their faces.

«I’ll go make some tea.» Announced Hilda as she let Mary in. «Chamomile for you.»

Zelda had only time to glare at her, but she didn’t complain, because she probably needed it. Also, was her family sending Mary in as the extreme resource to make her calm down? Now that she thought of it, she’d yelled at Hilda twice already - because it was a surprise and she wasn’t supposed to hear - and a couple of times too at Sabrina - because she still needed to finish her holiday assignments and she didn’t need to distract herself - but Zelda had been rude to them and she couldn’t find a single excuse. Maybe she needed help, but she would accept it only from one person as it had always been, after all.

«I want it to be perfect.» Zelda murmured once they were alone, as a sort of justification. She bit down on her lip when she realized it really wasn’t, but also she couldn’t help it: it was like that wedding had become her raison d’être.

«I know you do.» Mary offered, slowly rounding the desk and perching on one arm of the chair.

Zelda watched her with the corner of her eye when the woman glanced down, her hand roaming on one of the notebooks splayed on the desk, where the woman had scribbled something and noted names and addresses, crossing out most of it. She hated when Hilda or Ambrose touched her things, and when Sabrina messed up her book disposition, but with Mary, it didn’t seem to bother her much.

«But I feel you’re obsessing a little too much, Zelda.» She murmured, with a tiny chuckle. «You’ll end up making yourself sick.»

The redhead winced guilty, but a low grunt started to build in the back of her throat. Yes, Mary was right, she was absolutely right… but she just couldn’t let go: there were too many things to do, not to mention the other, secret, celebration they had to plan before the wedding.

«I’m fine.» She assured, looking sheepishly up at her. «There’s too much to think about and people are deserting on me and I have nothing done on the list.»

Mary heaved a sigh, hardly concealing the fond smile that was spreading on her lips. The redhead felt her hand snake on her shoulder, the weight of her arm giving her a soothing feeling.

«You have more than one month to get everything settled.»

«Precisely: I’m late.» Zelda stated, tapping the bottom of the pen on her messy notebook. «For instance, I need flowers.» She mumbled, eyes drifting away when she suddenly remembered a card of a supplier from Riverdale. «Maybe roses.» She added, scrunching up her face when she realized it was too obvious and probably lame. «Pink- my sister loves pink.» She nodded, rolling her eyes when she finally found the card in her folder, but reading that he only sold during summer.

«Well, this can’t be the only option.» Mary offered, grabbing the folder herself and flicking through the pages. «You must know tons of people who deal with flowers.»

«I do funerals, not weddings.» Zelda pointed out.

«What did you do when you got married?» The brunette asked.

Zelda looked up at her, her heart skipping a beat. She’d managed to ask that question with the casualty of a person asking what would one have for dinner. It was upsetting. She was glad Mary felt free to talk about everything - even about a past bound to the lost part of her - but she was not sure she was ready to talk about something so important to her with so little sentiments attached. And then, of course, Mary had spoken about their wedding as if it was something that happened to Zelda alone: it would’ve been hypocritical to state that it didn’t hurt a bit.

«I-» She swallowed, averting her eyes and shutting them when she realized her gaze was drifting on one particular photo in the display cabinet in the corner of her office, where the two of them were wearing white on a background of the same colour, family and friends gathered around them.

«We were in Canada.» She whispered, trying to keep the quiver of her voice at bay. _And it was beautiful_ , she wanted to add, _because it had been a summer wedding and there was snow outside the hotel, and it snowed during the ceremony, and it was all quiet and perfect_ . But on second thought, what was the point in it? Milking at her masochist side by reliving something that wasn’t anymore, at the moment? Rubbing the past she’d promised to set aside right in Mary’s face? She’d spoken about _her_ wedding without emotion - because it wasn’t something that happened to Mary or even involved Mary, not really, as things were - so Zelda had to make an effort and do the same.

«Anyway,» the redhead drew a sharp intake of breath, «I need to find a supplier to bargain a deal with, and I want the best one for my sister.»

«And I’ll help you find that supplier.» Mary reassured, closing the folder and setting it on the desk, on top of the notebook, as if to hide it to the other woman’s sight. She heaved a sigh and squeezed her shoulder, silently calling for attention.

«But?» Zelda urged, tilting her head up, giving her a knowing look.

«But,» the brunette continued with a guilty smile, «you’re stressed out.» She stated, with a firm voice that wouldn’t accept complaints despite the softness glimmering in those blue eyes. «And people are not prone to deal with possible clients who yell at them.»

«I wasn’t-»

«Sabrina was pouting on the stairs when I arrived because you shooed her away.» Mary winced. «And she said you did it rather harshly as well.»

Zelda gaped, almost scandalized.

«She needs to finish her homework first!» She rebuked, defensively.

«She wanted to help.» Mary punctuated. «So, why don’t we leave this for a while? I thought you wanted to do exercises in preparation for the baby’s arrival?»

The redhead frowned, glancing up at the clock hanging on the wall.

«Oh my–» She stammered. Two hours. She’d been phoning people for two hours; or to be precise, she’d been _yelling_ at people for two hours, whether the yelled-at was on the other side of the phone or on the other side of the office door, she’d been a harpy to people for two hours. Except to Mary.

«What do you want to do?» The brunette asked, her voice encouraging.

«I’ll take a break from this.» The woman decided, hand cupping the underside of her belly. She’d been engaging in unhealthy activities for two hours; that hardly was being responsible. If not for her own sake, she needed to change to avoid getting carried away; she had to listen to her family more, which now meant listening to Mary and placing herself into her hands. Would she be able to do such a thing?

Watching Mary’s smile, however, Zelda knew the answer could be only one.

They moved to the small living room, pulled down a few pillows from the couch, and sat down on the carpet after moving the coffee table to make room - they foregone the cd or the playlist Sabrina had settled for her aunt on her laptop because that whole deed was already awkward and slightly embarrassing as it was without the whole Enya discography playing in the background.

«All done.» Mary announced, blowing on the matchstick she used to rekindle the embers in the mantle to build a little fire.

«Thank you.» The redhead mumbled automatically, all her attention focused on the book laying on the carpet beside her. She settled the pillows right, and propped her back on those, shifting slightly so she was seated comfortably.

She took one last sip of chamomile tea from her mug and set it aside.

«Have you decided about the nursery?» Mary inquired, engaging yet another important conversation with disarming composure.

It was getting on her nerves. If that was her way of showing it wasn’t a big issue - hence a normal argument they could talk about - it was just a terrible approach on her behalf. She needed to talk to Mary, but on the other hand, she’d promised her to take and cherish whatever life would throw at her. Mary wasn’t exactly detached, she was willing to help and happy about the whole situation, she simply wasn’t overly enthusiastic… like Lilith would’ve been, instead. It was useless to think about it, since she couldn’t change how things were. _Mary_ was there, _Mary_ was ready to give. _Mary_ had to be the one, for now.

«Not yet.» She admitted with a little shrug, bending her knees up like in the picture and Mary sat on her haunches in front of her, head tilted to the side, frowning as she, as well, studied the instruction and read the caption to know exactly what she was supposed to do.

«I was thinking,» she sighed, lifting her hands and balling them into loose fists before dropping them down again, re-reading the caption in the book, «I could drive you to the baby store downtown, one of these days.»

Zelda whipped her head up, teeth closing around a bit of flesh on the inside of her cheek when she studied the other woman’s expression. She looked focused on the book, her voice was emotionless, but the redhead saw the quick flutter of her eyelashes, a sign she was nervous and waiting for an answer that could put her out of her misery.

«I’d love that, Mary.» Zelda said softly, smiling when she saw the brunette’s lips curving into a relieved smile as well. «Thank you for offering.»

«I want to.» The other simply replied, resting her hands on the outside of her legs, almost cupping her knees, firmly but gently - maybe a little too gently.

Her hands were warm on her legs, and Zelda had to remind herself that it was just only out of necessity because of the exercises, or else her brain would start wandering around without any possibilities of stopping it. They kissed on New Year, they kiss whenever they saw each other or when bidding goodbyes, they held hands and cuddle on the sofa, she would stroke her belly fondly and talk to the baby occasionally; all sweet little things, marvelous, and heartwarming and soothings little things, but she suddenly wonder if either of them was thinking about adding _more_ to the equation.

Would she have to bring up the topic, or would she have to wait for Mary to do that? Who needed to have confirmation from whom? It was all complicated and she constantly feared she was ruining things, whether she decided to act or do nothing.

«Ready?» Mary enquired with a soft voice.

The redhead blinked, snapping away from the maze of her distraught brain, and nodded, drawing her feet toward herself. She took a little breath and engaged the muscles of her abdomen and thighs to spread her knees, meeting a very mild resistance from Mary’s, who simply guided her legs apart, brow pinched into a perplexed grimace throughout the process.

«I thought you wanted to be my partner?» Quipped Zelda, bringing back her knees together to the previous position.

Mary looked up at her, a sheepish expression now spreading on her face.

«I do.» She assured her.

«You’re not helping much.» Zelda chuckled, tapping her finger on the book and pointing out the strings of words. «You’re supposed to _push_ against me.»

«I don’t want to hurt you.» Mary chirped out, thumbs suddenly rubbing on either side of the taut skin under her stretchy pants.

«It’s not like I’m going to break, Mary.» The other woman reassured, covering one of her hands with her own, feeling every familiar ridge and bumps of the knuckles beneath her pads. «It’s just exercise.»

«Alright.» The brunette sighed, gathering courage and shifting closer to her. «But tell me immediately if I’m doing something wrong.»

«Promise.» Zelda agreed.

«Ready?»

«You count.»

Mary pushed against her legs, offering a comfortable resistance to her muscles. She started to count to ten, holding the position, and then helped her knees up again.

By the third time, Zelda started to feel more relaxed, and allowed herself to close her eyes, solely focusing on the slight soreness in her muscles that was slowly settling in, the endorphins rushing in her blood kicking in with a pleasurable sensation of accomplishment. All her life she’d hated physical exercise, and she forced herself to engage in such activities only for her child’s sake, but she had to admit that it wasn’t so bad after all.

If anything, it was an excuse to stay close to Mary, have a taste of those hands on her body after months, and think about her life, about them, about their future, while doing something really useful.

Mary’s touch was warm and gentle. Her voice was calm and reassuring, counting steadily from one to ten.

Until her touch wasn’t gentle anymore, and her voice became close to a snarl. When she snapped her eyes open, Mary’s beautiful face wasn’t there anymore, her bright blue eyes turned dull and vicious, her sweet smile disappeared behind the face that haunted her darkest nightmares: it was Sabrina’s former Principal, Geroge Hawthorne, gripping her legs, clawing, his nails digging into her flesh and trapping her, it was his foul breath fanning her lips, his voice counting up to ten, each number drawing closer to her face.

She froze, holding her breath in while at the same time relaxing all her muscles, her legs snapping together with a thud when her kneecaps hit each other.

«Zelda?»

«I–» She gaped, breathing harder when the man’s face disappeared between blinks and Mary returned before her.

«Did I do something wrong?» She asked with urgency, eyes wide in panic as she flinched back, hands dropping to her thighs, keeping them there.

Zelda felt anchored despite the queasiness settling in the pit of her stomach now. She shook her head furiously from one side to the other, swallowing the lump in her throat and forcing herself to smile. She felt hot and sweaty and generally uncomfortable, but Mary’s presence managed to keep her calm still.

«No.» She mumbled, blindly reaching for the mug she’d set aside. «No, you didn’t do anything wrong.» She gulped the warm liquid, letting it soothe as it slid down.

It was stupid - it happened in the past and Hawthorne was locked away, he would never hurt anybody - and Mary had saved her from him. She couldn’t let him win and imagine his filthy hands whenever somebody was touching her - it had happened with Hilda too, once, right after the accident, but it quickly faded away and only appeared in her nightmares after a particular stressful days; not anymore, however, since when Mary was in her life. And now, why did the memory come back? If her subconscious was telling her that it was too soon to add _more_ to the equation, it was a sick and unnecessary traumatic way to do it.

«I’m sorry.» She mumbled, clearing her throat, her eyes searching Mary’s face when her expression softened.

«No need to.» The woman smiled. «Let’s take a break, alright?» She suggested with a low, reassuring voice, and then she leaned over and placed a hurried kiss atop on her left knee.

Zelda waited for the surprise of the tender and unexpected gesture to sink in, but it never did. She followed her when Mary crawled on the carpet and sat by her side, both stretching out their legs, bare feet and toes wiggling in front of the fire.

«You saw that creep, didn’t you?»

Zelda slowly turned her head to the side, watching the brunette as she watched the fire, staring ahead with a mysterious expression.

«I–» At first, she thought about lying, saying that she just got distracted with yet another thing on her wedding list, but then she thought running away was useless, and stupid, if she thought about running away from Mary when the woman was the only one who could make her feel calm, the only one who could really help.

«Yes.» She finally admitted, heaving a long sigh.

«I thought as much.» Mary mumbled, tentatively smiling at her when she turned, locking their gazes. «You know you’re safe, right?»

Zelda blinked, nodding once. She felt her arms wrapping around her in the school bathroom, and she felt her body pressing against her own in her bed, while she kept the nightmares away on New Year, she felt her lips on her mouth, and the promises and the moment they shared. She was safe. With Mary, she was.

«I know I am.» She smiled, leaning against her shoulder, her head nestling perfectly in the crook of her neck. «And I want you to wipe away the old memories.» She murmured, scrunching up her face when she realized what that wish could actually mean. Was she really suggesting to replace the past? Was she ready for that? «I’d like you to wipe away all the _bad_ memories.» She corrected, draping her arm across her lap, drawing herself closer, thirsty of the warmth radiating from her body.

«We have plenty of time for that.» Mary soothed, wrapping her arm around the redhead’s shoulders, keeping her close.

Zelda wasn’t really sure about that, because a part of her wanted to at least have a stable life before the baby’s arrival, but on the other hand, she knew that hoping for something impossible would only lead her to dissatisfaction and Mary didn’t deserve a frustrated companion, because she was trying her best - just like her baby didn’t deserve an unhappy mother, because he or she had no blame.

«We do.» Zelda finally confirmed, her eyes fluttering close when she felt Mary’s mouth tracing a messy path with her lips, dropping small kisses on the crown of her head. She giggled, placing a kiss on her neck in return.

«And we can simply cuddle.» Mary shrugged, sounding genuinely content.

«I know I’ve been complicated in the last weeks… _months_.» The redhead winced. «I didn’t really know what I was looking for. Or what to expect.»

«And now you do?» The other inquired.

«I hope so.» She chirped out, worrying at her lip. «Thank you for being patient with me.» She said sincerely, only to frown when she heard Mary chuckle, her whole body quaking beneath her, making her bounce as well.

«You’re talking about patience, Zelda?» She retorted, shaking her head. «Do I need to remind you that you had to put me back together? Literally.» She sighed.

«Maybe I was just being selfish.» The woman let out a breathy giggle, because she knew she had been selfish: for months she just wished for her wife back, for her old life back, for everything that fate had torn away from her hands without asking.

«It doesn’t matter why you did it, Zelda.» The brunette pointed out. «You put me back on my feet and… you also let me go when I needed it. You saved me.»

«And you saved me.» Zelda replied promptly. «Physically and emotionally too.»

«It was the least I could do.» She murmured, a pretty shade of pink spreading on her neck, and not just because of the fire.

Zelda smirked in delight at the reaction: Lilith always bragged about saving her from almost being assaulted in the woods and Mary had actually saved from being assaulted in a school bathroom, but she was shy about it. Zelda wasn’t sure which reaction she liked the most, both adorable in their own ways.

«You’re a wonderful person, Mary, I couldn’t be happier about it.» She replied sincerely. Even if she wanted to save Lilith and got Mary instead, she was proud of the woman standing by her side, with her, willing to share everything. «And now you’re only returning the favor by saving me.»

«Zelda, I–» Mary murmured, but her voice trailed off.

«What?» The redhead pushed herself up and peered at her face, the trace of something important leaving her lips and fading behind the darkened hue of her eyes.

«No, nothing.» She whispered, giving a tensed smirk.

«You know you can tell me everything.»

«I know.» Mary nodded.

Zelda didn’t want to push her.

«Would you like to stay for dinner? Hilda is making your favorite.» The woman smiled, trying to persuade her into a positive answer.

«She already invited me and I said yes.» Mary confessed, wincing with a guilty expression when the redhead gasped dramatically, faking outrage. «Also Sabrina begged me to stay so you wouldn’t keep yelling at everybody.»

«Is that so?» Zelda nodded, eyes narrowed. Her family was smarter than her: they knew her soft spot and they had invited Mary over to keep her under control. She should’ve actually felt outraged, but she wasn’t. She was happy to have dinner with Mary, with the whole family back together as it should’ve been; as it would’ve been.

«You know, I care for their safety as well.» The woman quipped, and Zelda couldn’t do anything but laugh with her.

She settled back down nestling to her side, breathing in the flowery scent of her sweater, working as a balm on her spirit. When she felt her hand reaching for hers, fingers entangling, she helplessly smiled and let herself relax.

A comfortable silence sat between them, the fire crackling in the mantel producing a sweet lullaby for them, almost cajoling both women to slumber before Zelda’s phone buzzed loudly on the couch, startling them.

She reached blindly for it, mouthing curses before answering, heart thumping in her chest. There was a man from the other side, asking if he was talking with Mrs. Spellman from the mortuary in Greendale. Briefly wondering how a client got her phone number, she waved her hand dismissively to shush Mary when she asked who it was, apparently vexed for being interrupted during their cuddling session.

«Zelda?» She urged, brow pinched. «Who is it?»

The redhead nodded, confirming more than once, and then closed the call with a huge grin on her face.

«It was the florist for the wedding.» She announced, throwing her phone back on the couch and curling beside Mary, claiming her spot.

«You have a deal?» The brunette asked, gladly welcoming her with open arms and snuggling into her immediately. She smiled when she felt Zelda nod against her shoulder. «What will it be, then?»

«Pink camellias.» She breathed out, content.

Finally, things were definitely moving in the right direction; for everything and everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on insta (lamarwy_ao3) for a "fact" about this chapter!  
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think: **I really need your support**. Make me happy! Thank you ♡


	27. What counts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

**Chapter 27 - What counts**

She was grateful for the hot cup of cocoa in her hands, from which she took occasional sips to keep herself engaged. There were so many things to look at - _too_ _many_ \- and a migraine was starting to build behind her eyes with a throbbing urgency. Zelda was glad she wasn’t alone in that jungle, trying to figure out what were the things she noted on her list, which didn’t make sense anymore.

«I’m suddenly regretting this.» Mary fakely complained, hardly containing a curse when a kid almost ran into her, muttering excuses between laughter as he left. «What do you have on your list?»

«Too much.» The redhead exhaled, marching toward a corner in the big area that seemed at least quieter. «I think we should at least look into the essentials: crib, changing table, and bassinet.»

«What about a car seat?»

«Car seat.» She echoed, scanning her list and gasping when she found out she actually didn’t put that item in there. What else did she forget?

«Don’t panic, we’re just looking around.» Mary tried to sound reassuring, perhaps sensing the other woman’s anxiety level spiking up for the little - but maybe not too little - omission.

«We’re  _ wandering  _ around.» Zelda corrected, adding the car seat with a shaky hand as she tried to balance the list and the cup in one hand, scribbling with the other, the pen’s cap between her teeth. «And we’re this close to getting lost.»

«We’ll manage.» The brunette soothed, grabbing the cap from her teeth and demanding to have the pen and the list with her palm up, fingers quickly wiggling.

With a sigh, Zelda handed everything over except for the cocoa. She took one last sip from it and threw the empty cup in the closest bin.

Mary did the same, eyes drifting from the list to the signs hanging above their heads, trying to figure out which item was in which area.

«We should just listen to Sabrina and order everything online when it’s time.» Zelda sighed, feeling defeated.

«It’s just a bit overwhelming.» Mary commented with a flat voice, her free hand going to settle on the small of her back, gently urging her forward in the designated ward. «But we’ll find our way, yes?»

The redhead smiled, eyes fluttering close for a moment when she felt the woman pecking her lips on her temple, instilling a mix of courage and calmness into her, which pleasantly settled in her veins.

«I still need to move everything out of the spare room.» She mumbled, slowly walking through the selections of cribs and cots. What was the difference anyway? And would she need an actual crib right away, even if she decided to keep a bassinet by the bed for at least one year after the birth? «And repaint the walls.»

«There’s time for everything, Zelda.» The other woman reminded, hoping she wouldn’t get carried away once more, even if it was likely to happen - soon, or at any given time.

«This one looks comfy.» She commented, hand gripping on the side panel of a wooden crib, padded all around with white foamy material to avoid the baby getting hurt. It had gentle lines and the bars didn’t resemble the ones of a prison cell.

«It certainly does.» Mary agreed, tentatively squeezing the padding and giving a hum of appreciation when she noticed that it was indeed soft.

«Write down the code.» She asked, holding up the tag for Mary, so she could note the string of numbers and letters.

«Yes, ma’am.» The other quipped, giving a little shake of her head.

Under Hilda’s suggestion, they adopted that particular technique of noting the name of the selected products so they would be easier to find in the catalog when the order would’ve been placed - which would likely happen in weeks or months, once the spare room would’ve been ready to accommodate all the baby’s stuff.

Zelda felt pleased and satisfied. Now that they had at least something sorted out, she felt lighter and prone to keep going. Moving on to the next ward, Mary in tow as she read the list with a loud voice so she could hear her over the general noise buzzing in the store, they selected a changing table, a couple of bassinets - a traditional one that would compete with the one Sabrina had, and a more modern and practical one to attach to the bed, so the baby would’ve been easier to handle at night - and other things either of them thought might be needed.

By the time they reached the toys section, they were both exhausted, but couldn’t avoid dwelling on the stuffed animals they found there, picking one up every five steps, and did the same when they walked through the articles of clothing, little dresses, and salopettes and beanies with the silliest captions that, however, made them both smile alternatively.

«Isn’t that a sight for the eyes?»

Zelda’s grin dropped immediately at the silvery voice coming from her back. She knew that voice, but she couldn’t put her fingers around to whom it belonged, not until she spun and her eyes settled on the young nurse from the General Hospital.

«Miss Night!» The redhead greeted, curiously eying at the basket she’s carrying, full of baby clothes, diapers, and a few pacifiers. Would she need pacifiers as well? She made a mental note to put those on the list as well.

«Just Prudence.» The girl suggested, gazing at the two women. «I’m so glad to see you back together Mrs. Spellman.»

«We- found each other, Prudence.» Zelda replied, hoping that the girl would get the hint. When she saw her gasping, eyebrow lifted, she gave a small nod. «And at this point, after everything you did to me, please call me Zelda.» She offered. «This is _Mary_ , my–» she paused, mouth agape. What exactly were they? Wives? Girlfriends, for as cheesy as it sounded? They certainly passed the “friends” stage.

«Very pleased to meet you.» The older woman interjected, reaching out to shake the girl’s hand.

«Likewise. I work at the Hospital as a nurse.» Prudence grinned and Zelda was glad she played along despite the two of them already knew each other from the hospital days, back when Mary was still confused and utterly lost.

And then the girl’s gaze dropped down, non-subtly scanning at her body, clearly studying the swell of her stomach.

Zelda didn’t generally like being stared at like that, but the girl had a strange way of doing it, not beaming, not awing silly things, not even trying to reach out and stroke her stomach without asking for permission like most people would do - it was like she was genuinely interested.

«Would you look at that?» She finally commented with an appreciative smile, then her brow furrowed. «When are you due?»

«Middle April.» She answered automatically, mildly concerned now that Prudence kept staring at her, nodding in silence, as if she was having deep thoughts about something. But maybe it was just her being her old paranoid self. «Got any news on your behalf?» She then inquired with a curious smirk, eyebrow wiggling toward the basket she was carrying.

Prudence seemed to snap out of her trance and gasped out a peal of laughter, hand clawing at the front of her coat.

«Oh god, not for me! We have babies in the house now.» She explained with a pained expression. «My father and my stepmother just had twins.»

«You said it like it’s a bad thing.» Mary commented with a light chuckle.

«Well, it is when you need a quiet place to study.» The girl countered, rolling her eyes dramatically. «They are cute, but the house is far from being a quiet location.»

Zelda winced, already despising the idea of the horrible side of having a baby in the house, especially newborns demanding things every couple of hours at most, or sometimes simply crying for the sake of it - and her baby was already proving to be quite the little demon as things were.

«What are you studying?» Mary inquired, suddenly interested, her eyes narrowed behind the glasses. «I thought you were already a nurse.»

«I am,» Prudence confirmed, «I’m getting a midwifery license. I feel that is more my vocation.» She shrugged.

«I wish you good luck with that.» Zelda said sincerely, and suddenly her insistent staring made sense.

«Thank you.» The girl beamed. «I’m honestly excited: I’m currently under the wing of this very expert midwife from New Orleans and- sorry, I’m getting carried away.»

«Please, I-» Zelda waved her hand dismissively, blinking rapidly at her.

«Are you interested?» Prudence inquired.

The redhead hinted at a small shrug, eyes drifting to Mary who shot back a confused glare at her, brow furrowed.

«I-  _ we  _ haven’t decided yet, and we still have to discuss it with my doctor thoroughly, but–»

«Sure.» Prudence interjected, balancing the basket on her arm and fishing inside her purse. «Let me just get you a card.» She mumbled confusedly.

Zelda started to worry at her lip, throwing a sideways glance at Mary when the brunette did the same, wiggling her eyebrow encouragingly. They still needed to discuss a lot of things and not just the practical side concerning their lives after the birth, but the before and during as well. Perhaps that encounter had been just providential, a cue to actually start to think about everything once the wedding was thorough. There had been a lot on her plate, lately, but at least today one thing would be off the list - and Zelda can’t wait for that time to come.

«Ah- there it is.» Prudence cried out, providing the redhead with a small yellow card, adorned with stylized bows and pacifiers, along with the name written in bold letter. She scanned it superficially and then slid it into the pocket of her coat.

«Thank you, Prudence.» She smiled gratefully.

«My pleasure, Mrs- Zelda. Mary.» She bowed her head as she bid her goodbyes, throwing a bright smile at them before leaving, gingerly walking away.

Once alone again, the redhead turned to the brunette, who kept looking at the girl until she was out of sight. Zelda was nervous: yes, she’d just discussed potential information of that sort with an acquaintance, and she was sure young, but on the other hand, the redhead knew she could be trusted, and resourceful, and sported just the right amount of recklessness - and overall, she owed her so much, because, without her, Mary wouldn’t probably be by her side, at the moment.

«I thought it could be useful, you know.» Zelda whispered with a small voice.

«She sure seems nice.» The other woman considered, shrugging. «And you trust her, yes?»

«I do.» Zelda nodded. Perhaps she would tell her the story - all the story - while they were comfortably seated in the car, on the way home.

«Well, then. In case a midwife is needed, you’ve got the number.» She concluded with a smile.

« _ We _ . We’ve got the number.» Zelda corrected, her smile contorting as she tried to suppress a yawn.

«Tired?» Mary inquired with a diverted smirk, hardly suppressing one herself since the redhead often managed to infect her.

«Exhausted.» The woman confirmed.

«Home?» Mary proposed, her hand settling comfortably on the small of her back, pulling her close to her, bodies flushed together as they leaned into each other.

«Home.» Zelda confirmed, and her heart leaped because she knew, somehow, Mary meant the Spellman manor -  _ their  _ house.

Wringing Cee’s mittens with her fingers, Zelda watched outside the window, the forest passing outside as they sped down the roads. It had been a while since the last snow, and the white coat was slowly melting away, the trees raining cold drops incessantly now as their branches shredded their once white and soft blankets.

«You’re awfully quiet.» Mary commented, trying to get the radio on a nice channel so it wouldn’t croak too much, even if it seemed to be impossible right now.

«I just told you how I know Prudence.» The redhead argued, turning her head to watch Mary as she gripped the wheel. «You didn’t ask any question about it.»

«No, I know that.» The brunette agreed, tilting her head to the side. «But I don’t remember that either and it makes me angry. Not only my past, but also those days are blurred.» She explained with a wince.

«Precisely, I- I don’t want to pour salt on the wound.» Zelda justified, biting on the inside of her cheek, suddenly feeling nervous.

«I understand.» Mary offered, and rested her hand on her thigh, giving a reassuring squeeze over the knee. «I just want you to talk to me.» She said simply, smiling in her direction.

Zelda released all the tension at once. She smiled as well, her hand quickly going to rest atop hers, pads ghosting over the back of it, tracing invisible paths on the reddened skin.

«Talk about what?»

«About why are you looking so smug, for instance.»

Zelda felt herself blushing at the remark: blood quickly rushed to paint her cheeks and neck under the sweater, feeling suddenly warm all over. She scoffed, frowning because she’d checked herself on the rear-side mirror twice already . Mouth slightly ajar in surprise, she stilled her movements on her hand.

«I do _not_ look smug.» She stammered, averting her eyes and fixing her gaze on the road, trees and rare cars passing by at each side.

«You do.» Mary insisted.

«I don’t look anything.» Zelda snapped, chin high. «Stop the interrogation at once.»

«Fine.» The brunette conceded, turning the hand that had stayed on the other woman’s thigh, only to grip her firmly, fingers intertwining immediately; she gave a tentative squeeze, at first, then Zelda enhanced the contact, welcoming the sharing heat between their skins as one’s hand warmed the other’s.

«I’m happy, that’s all.» She said sincerely, hoping that it would satisfy Mary. It wasn’t a lie, not in the least, because Zelda was indeed happy, and excited, and thrilled, and she couldn’t wait to get home with her.

«I’m happy too.» The brunette added with a smile, giving a content hum when the radio tuned in by itself, the static sounds bleeding into a popular song.

Zelda exhaled contentedly, smiling wider when the Greendale sign appeared on the side of the road, and Mary promptly took the shortest way to get to the Spellman Mortuary. Ten minutes now. Ten minutes, more or less, and then she could turn all smug as she pleased - and quite rightly too - without raising suspects.

They spent the remaining minutes listening to the radio, and when Mary suggested stopping at Cee's to have a quick snack, Zelda lied and said she wasn’t hungry, simply claiming she wanted to go home. She hated the sad pout that appeared on the brunette’s lips, but she pretended not to see, squirming in her seat when the car finally entered the gravel road that led to the mortuary.

«I think you have clients.» Mary commented when she spotted the blue pickup truck parked next to the hearse.

«I guess so.» The other mumbled, exhaling through her nose. So much for telling Hilda to please tell Mr. Putnam to park the car in the back. «Mary, would you like to come in for a bit?» She asked with a little shrug, trying to sound like she’d just come up with the idea. She leaned on the car door for balance and looked at the woman with expectant eyes.

«I need to go back to the cottage, that place is really a mess.» Mary sighed, diving into the back of the car to retrieve the bag before locking the car. «Also, I think you’ll be too busy to mind me.» She gave her a nervous chuckle, pointing at the truck with a tilt of her chin.

«Sabrina is having trouble with an assignment.» Zelda said hurriedly. She hated to use that card, but she had to. «I know she wanted to call you, but since you’re here- it won’t take long.» She batted her lashes then, tilting her head as she tried to better conceal her shameless begging.

« _Low_. Alright.» Mary sighed dramatically, bouncing the bag in her arms, which was quite heavy with all the stuff inside - they agreed on not buying anything, but then they walked past other shops and different stores and saw a lamp that would’ve been perfect for Sabrina, and a backpack that was just designed for Ambrose and a set of cooking utensils Hilda might find useful and took everything with them - or so Mary thought because it had been just an excuse the redhead used to buy them some extra time.

Zelda fiddled with the keys and unlocked the door, only to hurry inside, immediately disappearing into a strange darkness. Mary frowned and followed her inside, eyes narrowed in a pitiful attempt to see something - and things got worse when she heard the door being pushed close, and even the light coming from outside disappeared.

«Zelda, I can’t see a thing!» The woman protested, her voice between a chuckle and a vexed hiss.

«Could you please turn on the lights?» The redhead asked, mirth in her voice.

Zelda waited, leaning against the door, already grinning, and then when Mary finally found the switch - she was happy that the brunette unconsciously found it as if she knew or remembered its location - she joined the happy chorus of “Happy birthday!” that came from pretty much everywhere around the house.

The redhead grinned, scanning all the people there with fondness: her sister and Cee popping out from the living room door with party horns gripped in between their teeth, Ambrose, Sabrina, and her friends perched on top of the stairs, some of the closest neighbors clapping from the darkest corners with silly cone hats on.

«Oh my–» Mary breathed out, clearly overwhelmed by that situation, immediately turning to Zelda with wide, panicked eyes. «What is the meaning of it?»

The redhead blinked, grabbing her hand for reassurance.

«It’s your birthday, silly.» She said softly, thumbs running circles on the back of her hand and wrist.

The brunette swallowed thickly, peering at those grinning faces with the corner of her eyes.

«Well, I guess I have to have one, after all.» She commented, somewhat flatly.

«You don’t like it?» Inquired Zelda, unable to conceal the disappointed grimace that contorted her features.

«No, no I do.» The other hurried, squinting her eyes and sighing in frustration. «I’m taken aback, that’s all. But I love it.» She said, and she was sincere. The redhead could easily tell by the glimmer in her eyes. «I love it so much.» She added.

«Good.» Zelda concluded, scrunching her nose, the pout turning into a smug smile as she grabbed her shoulder, urging her to shed off her coat.

«Thank you.» Mary whispered, locking her gaze with her. Shimmering blue met shimmering green, and they both knew she was thanking her for so much more than helping her with the coat. «Thank you all.» She then said louder, turning her head to the rest of the group, as people approached.

Hilda was the first one to come closer to them bestowing kisses to one or the other, then Ambrose snatched the bag from Mary’s arms and put a silly hairband on her head that read “party girl” in gold.

Zelda could tell she hated it right away, and she giggled when Mary gave a tense smile, restraining the urge to tug it off merely out of politeness.

«Happy birthday, Mary!» Sabrina grinned, her friends in tow. Zelda watched her wrapping her arms around the woman’s neck and indulge a little in the act before forcing herself to detach, not before pecking Mary’s cheeks soundly. «You remember my friends from trivia night? Theo and Roz. And Harvey of course.»

«Have you finished your extra assignment, Mr. Kinkle?»

The boy stared with his mouth agape, small eyes darting around in search of help.

«Not yet, Ms. Warwell, but you’ll have it by tomorrow.» He hurried, hand scratching at his hair with embarrassment.

«No school talking.» Zelda stepped in after removing her own coat and shoes, throwing a warning glare at the brunette, who agreed right away and chirped a pitiful apology to the boy. She introduced Mary to Theo’s father and the other neighbors - only the closest ones were invited - and then she could finally pull the woman in the living room, where soft music was playing, and a small buffet with snacks and beverages had been settled next to a rather large pile of presents.

«You can relax.» Zelda said softly, lowering herself on the couch by the fire and gesturing Mary to join her. «It’s your birthday party, but mostly it’s just an excuse to talk and eat. Sabrina has her friends, the adults talk about their farms and activities, Hilda minds the food, and Cee and Ambrose discuss philosophy. A normal day, just a little louder.» She explained, leaning comfortably on her when Mary finally convinced herself and sat beside her.

«You didn’t have to do it, Zelda.» The woman breathed out, wringing on her fingers with a nervous expression, teeth scraping at her bottom lip.

«Sabrina insisted on celebrating like any other year.» The redhead sighed. «And I thought it would be a nice surprise for you.»

«It certainly was a surprise.» Mary chuckled, leaning closer to peck at the corner of her mouth. «I guess I feel out of place.»

«You don’t have to.» She reassured. «It’s just us and a few friends.»

«It’s nice.» Mary breathed out, allowing herself to enjoy the atmosphere, and sip from the cup of soda in her hand.

Zelda smiled at her, reaching out to tug off the silly headband from her hair and tossed it on the coffee table. She gave a chuckle at the state of the woman’s hair, and hurriedly combed some locks with her fingers until the wild curls were decently tamed. Mary’s cheeks flushed pink while she thanked her.

«Now you can tell me what was that.» The redhead chuckled, a diverted smile creeping on her lip.

«What was what?»

«You glaring at Harvey. If looks could kill...» She let the sentence hang, hardly suppressing another giggle when Mary’s eyes, at the mention of that name, immediately wandered around the room, only to settle on the boy across the room, quietly chatting with Sabrina and the other teens.

«I didn’t glare at the Kinkle boy.» Mary argued, suddenly defensive.

Zelda chose to ignore the way she addressed him, because it was how they used to call him when she and Lilith were in private, discussing the friendship between their Sabrina and that dull coal miner’s son.

«You did.» She insisted.

«I didn’t do it on purpose.» Mary huffed. The redhead chuckled, however, when she saw her narrowing her eyes in the exact moment the chiming laughter of her niece filled the hair, mixed with her friend’s but mostly Harvey’s. Mary immediately softened her face. «Fine. I saw them downtown the other day.»

«And?» Zelda urged, biting down her lips, because she could clearly see where that conversation was going and she found everything immensely adorable.

«You know.» The brunette huffed, shooting her an eloquent look.

«Yes, and?» The other insisted, grinning.

«Zelda! He is–» Mary stammered, lifting her free hand and gesturing around with messy movements as if those could explain her point.

«I’m fine with him.» Zelda reassured, reaching out for the woman’s hand. «We are all fine with that.» She said softly. «Besides, she’ll be off to college next year and she’ll meet all kinds of interesting people.»

«So we’re counting on that?» Mary inquired, cocking an eyebrow.

«We are.» Zelda confirmed.

It was a hazard because if she had to think about her own personal experience, she had kept on thinking about Lilith not only for her whole college years but after that until they found each other again. Yet that was another story: Harvey was not remotely interesting like Lilith had been and Sabrina was simply drunk with her sweetheart romance. He was nice and kind, but simply not meant for her - eventually, Sabrina would see that, but she had to do it on her own and, in the meanwhile, she needed to have her family supporting her no matter what, even if it meant to stand a dull boy buzzing around their precious girl.

«You can stop tormenting the poor boy and drop the mama bear act.» Zelda quipped, though her heart was swelling at the idea of Mary turning that protective over the children, just like Lilith would’ve done - just like Lilith had done, more than once. It was what she needed, making all the comparison unnecessary: that woman was just…  _ perfect _ .

«We’ll see about it.» Mary chuckled back, clearly not entirely convinced. «Maybe it’s my own way of practising.» She added, curling by her side, and rested her hand on the swell of her stomach, rubbing circles through the thick fabric of the sweater.

Just like as Zelda predicted, the party went on smoothly: each group would talk and chat, gathering only to sing the traditional song and cut the cake.

Mary ate the chocolate cake on the couch next to Zelda both quietly talking and basking in the warmth of the fire, while the others laughed and talked more, way past the children’s bedtime.

«It’s a school night, Sabrina.» Zelda said when the grandfather clock struck half past midnight, loud enough to be heard above the dense chatting of the teens.

«But we’re having fun, Auntie!» The girl argued, silently begging with her eyes.

«And who’s going to wake you up, tomorrow?» The redhead insisted, though a smile crept on her lips; after a huff, Sabrina stood up, hugging her friends to bid goodnight, and they promised to see each other tomorrow in class.

«Let’s go, Theo.» Mr. Putnam added encouragingly, reaching out to put his arm on his son’s shoulder when he hurried by his side. «We’ll take the kids home.»

«Thank you, Mr. Putnam.» Zelda smiled at him, grateful.

The house was much quieter now that the children and the neighbors were gone, and only the family remained there, lazily munching on popcorn and chips, Sabrina curled up by Zelda’s side, desperately buying herself some extra time with cuddles, even though she kept yawning every two minutes.

«Come on, love.» Hilda chuckled when she rose up from her chair, Cee in tow. «I’ll get you into bed.» She coaxed, tugging at the girl’s arm. Sabrina grunted, blinking her eyes awake and hugging messily Zelda and Mary, slurring goodnights as she got dragged upstairs. Ambrose soon followed, stretching his limbs, and kissing his aunt goodnight.

«I’ll wake up earlier tomorrow and clean up the mess.» He announced through a yawn, returning the quick hug Mary was offering.

«Don’t worry about it,» Zelda shook her head and smiled at him, «Aunt Hilda and I will manage just fine.»

«And I’ll help too, of course.» Mary jumped in.

«Alright then.» Concluded the boy, saluting them both with a tilt of an imaginary hat, before marching out the room and up the stairs.

«It was a nice evening.» Mary whispered, placing a small kiss on her jaw.

Zelda scooted closer, as if suddenly the heat coming from the mantle wasn’t enough anymore, and she only wished to be enveloped within the brunette’s arms, in her familiar scent of jasmine, that lingered often on her clothes, of late.

«I’m glad.» The redhead breathed back, tilting her head to the side so that their lips could join. She smiled on her lips at the tenderness of the gesture, Mary always so careful and attentive to the both of them, eyes barely hooded to capture every glimpse of eventual hesitation; pale fingers dipped into dark locks and she heaved a breathy chuckle at the taste of chocolate she tasted when their contact enhanced and their lips parted at the same moment.

She got lost in it for what felt like an eternity. And she wanted more because she could’ve never had enough of that, but it felt too much as well because her heart was hammering against her ribcage and her head started to spin, lighter than ever.

Zelda gently pulled away, resting her forehead against Mary’s, their noses brushing together, and she bit down her own lips, pressing them together, as if to trap that taste and that feeling there.

«I have a gift for you.» She breathed out, warm breath fanning the other’s mouth.

«Another one?» Mary heaved out a breathy chuckle, wrapping her fingers around her wrist, thumb soothing circles there as Zelda kept her hand in the mane of her hair.

The redhead nodded, the tip of her tongue running on the rim of her slightly swollen lips.

«It’s-»

«Let me get it for you.» Mary hurried, about to stand up and walk to the pile of packages that still remained untouched, for her to open in the morning.

But when she barely moved away, Zelda grabbed her arm, pulling her back down and closer to her. She shook her head, and suddenly the smug grimace turned into a timid one.

«I have it here.» She whispered, fishing inside the pocket of her sweater.

Zelda retrieved a small box wrapped in red paper, adorned with a golden bow she’d curled and tied up herself with very little help from Sabrina - who insisted on placing her finger to keep the two ends to slip away.

«Zelda, I-»

«Open it, before you say anything.» The redhead urged her with a smirk, worrying at her lip when Mary began to unwrap the box: first she tugged at the ribbon, then she carefully unpeeled the tape and removed the paper to set it neatly aside on the coffee table. At least she wouldn’t have to go around and collect small pieces of paper from her torn up presents like every year - it was something.

«Zelda, what is it?» Mary wondered, a curious grin plastered on her mouth when she found herself with a rather old light-matches box with something small and metallic rattling inside. «I-» She stood with her mouth agape and Zelda bit down her lip, studying her face with anticipation.

Mary didn’t move, but her eyes were glimmering already, seemingly lost somewhere far away, beyond Zelda’s reach.

Did she trigger the right memory? Did she hope too hard, too much, too soon? Did she do the right thing? Hardly for the right reason, but only in part.

«I want you to have these.» She whispered when Mary slid open the box, revealing the keys nestled inside. «I want this to be your home as well.» She added sincerely.

Yes, she wanted Mary to consider the manor as hers, for her to come and go as she pleased, surprise them at breakfast, spend the night when she felt to, really be part of the family.

«Zelda–» The brunette breathed out, blue eyes almost drowning in unborn tears. She took out the keys and held them tight in her fist. «Thank you, I-» Her breath hitched suddenly, and her gaze drifted down.

Zelda stared at her, missing that peering blue immediately, and searched for an answer between the wrinkles moving on her face. She’d done that again: started to talk and then trailing off, hiding something from her ears.

«What is it, Mary?» She asked softly, reaching out to touch her free hand, hoping to give her some reassurance, some comfort, some courage to just speak up and unburden herself from whatever was tormenting her.

«Nothing.» She whispered back, her lips curved into a tensed smile. «It’s not the right time yet.» She added in a small voice. «But these...» Mary smiled now, and heaved a wet sob, squeezing the keys in her palm. «Thank you, for real. I love you all very much.»

When Mary leaned into her, Zelda didn’t hesitate to kiss her and hug her tight. She had come back in the family the day she entered Dr. Cee’s after the crash, and now they were only making it official.

Mary was coming home.

They only needed to be more patient and - even if she shouldn't have thought about it, nor hope for it - with a little bit of luck and perseverance, perhaps, Lilith would too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Lilith’s birthday is in late January because my girlfriend’s birthday (Roy88) is on the 21st of January, and there’s no other explanation for not using Michelle’s real birthday date (which btw is awfully close to mine so I feel blessed).
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think: **I really need your support**. Make me happy! Thank you ♡


	28. Settling down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3  
> HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY MY FELLOW SAPPHICS!

**Chapter 28 - Settling down**

When the initial fright of the dress that wouldn’t zip up was overcome, Zelda thanked Sabrina for the help and fixed her hair, making sure everything about the girl’s attire met her standards. She asked for the thousandth time if Harvey and Theo both had pink camellias at the top buttonhole of their suit collars, and if Roz had one strapped to her wrist just like Sabrina. The girl barely restrained a dramatic eye-roll when she assured that, yes, everything was perfect and the ceremony would be beautiful just like Zelda planned with such dedication.

It would’ve been a simple wedding because Hilda had insisted on it, and so only the closest friends and a few neighbors had been invited - along with the pastor, of course - and they were to lead the service in the yard, right under the willow tree decked for the occasion, and then, after the ceremony, they would move inside the manor to extend the party.

But big or small, Zelda had thought of everything because she wanted that day to be perfect; for Hilda, because her darling sister deserved everything and more.

«Is Ambrose ready with the music?» She asked again, and Sabrina spun on her heels, the billowy skirt of her dress flaring around her legs.

«He is.» She confirmed, failing to contain the annoyance in her voice. «You asked me already.» She added, hoping to soften the glare her aunt threw her. The girl then smiled reassuringly, walking gingerly toward the door. «Everything’s going to be fine, Aunt Zee. Relax, Aunt Hilda is the only one allowed to panic like that!»

Zelda watched her go and listened to the happy scuffing of her heels as she ran down the stairs. She barely resisted the urge to shout not to run inside the house - especially now that she was wearing heels and she was not used to those - and then her thoughts focused on Hilda.

Was she indeed panicking in her own room, maybe having cold feet before the wedding? Zelda sure had - for five long minutes. But her sister had been by her side even then. And even if they owned two very different personalities, with Hilda being the strongest and more balanced when it came to emotions, the redhead gathered all her belongings and ventured outside her bedroom, silently pacing toward the spare room that her sister and Cee shared when he spent the night.

She knocked on the wood and waited for Hilda to grant entrance, and cracked the door open, an excited grin creeping on her lips when she peeked inside and caught a glimpse of her little sister studying herself in the vanity mirror.

«Hilda, you’re beautiful!» She gasped, tears gathering at the corner of her eyes as she slid inside the room, closing the door on her back.

The younger woman beamed, squirming on her chair and turning slightly.

«Zelds, don’t tease me.» She giggled, shoving all the makeup products back into her bag. «I feel odd.»

«Poppycock.» Scoffed the redhead. «I’m not teasing you and you do look beautiful. Just wait until Cee sees you.» She smiled, wiping at her eyes with the pads of her fingers, glad that she chose to use waterproof, already aware that her hormones would play dirty - she just wasn’t ready to cry so soon before the ceremony had even started.

«I’m not nervous.» Hilda confessed in a small voice. She rose up from the chair and walked to the full-length mirror, smothering the skirt of her dress. «Is that normal? Were you nervous, sister?»

«I was- _terrified_.» The other replied with a fond chuckle, the memories flooding back into her head, sweet and sour at the same time. «But Cee is the right one. You’ve dreamed of this day your whole life, Hildie, you’re prepared.»

«I have.» The blond replied, joining her sister on the bed.

They always took care of each other, even in the darkest times. Zelda had been a guide to Hilda her whole life since she was but a child and Hilda, in return, had been her rock ever since. What they didn’t do often, however, was hugging each other without a reason, so when the rare occasion presented itself, they both indulged in the moment, the younger woman breathing in the sweet scent of her sister’s perfume, the redhead basking in the softness of those warm arms that felt like home no matter the time or the circumstances.

When they parted, they both sniffled, dabbing at the underside of their eyes to cast the tears away. Zelda smiled at her sister then, sighing in relief when she established that she hadn’t ruined her makeup for being too sentimental.

She nodded to herself, then frowned, wondering if she should tell Hilda that she would look even better with her curls behind her ears. She decided against it.

«How are you set with the lucky charms?» She inquired instead, still sniffling.

Hilda threw her a conspiratorial grin, then sunk into her own shoulders, letting out excited wheezes. The redhead had always been grateful for her sister’s bubbly personality, now more than ever.

«Well,» she squealed, pointing at a box lying on the vanity, «I have grandma’s old veil. And–» Zelda looked down when the woman pulled slightly up her skirt and then lifted one foot, presenting the sole, «my sixpence taped here. And then, of course, my new brooch.» She stated proudly, tapping fondly at the silver spider pinned to her bosom.

Zelda smiled satisfied: she had bought it with Mary only a few days prior especially for the occasion - an early wedding gift, to be worn on her special day, something to symbolize good luck and in the meanwhile celebrate one of Hilda’s most precious talent, which was her creativity.

«Good.» Zelda smiled, heaving a wet sob that, somehow, managed not to turn into a complete whimper. «You need something borrowed.» She muttered.  _ Something borrowed from a happily married couple _ . Technically she was still married and Mary… Mary made her happy. She grabbed the engagement ring on her left hand and worked it slowly off her finger.

«Zelds–»

«No arguing, Hildie.» The redhead countered promptly and with a firm voice, presenting the ring to her sister, her gaze demanding. «I want you to have it on you on this special day.»

«Thank you, sister.» Hilda breathed out, slipping the ring inside a pocket in her dress, patting it fondly once it was hidden and safe. «All I need is something blue.»

Zelda shrugged, then pursed her lips into a bittersweet smile.

«You have me.» She mumbled, her voice thick with imminent crying. «Don’t get me wrong, sister. Because I’m happy for you- I’m  _ so  _ happy for you.» Zelda assured, nodding her head vehemently. «But you’ll move out soon and that just makes me–» Was she being sentimental? Too clingy? What gave her the right to say those things to Hilda on her wedding day, spoiling the mood with unnecessary guilt? Was it the hormones? She didn’t know, but she couldn’t bring herself to shut up either.

«But, Zelds, you’ll always have me.» Hilda objected, her voice soft while a timid smile crept out her lips.

Zelda exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes. She just didn’t get it, didn’t she? She wasn’t after a sisterly bond, a connection above time and space: Zelda sought for the physical one, a real closeness with the woman she’d lived her past three decades and more with, side by side, sharing everything.

«This house won’t be the same without you.»

She heard Hilda giggle. Why would she even laugh at her pain? Honestly.

The redhead glared at her, but her sister kept smiling.

«No, Zelds. _Literally_.» She threw her arm around Zelda’s shoulders, giving her a loose squeeze. «I’m not moving out. I’m taking this room to make it mine and Cee’s. You can transform the other spare room into a nursery, right? Isn’t that what you were planning anyway?»

Zelda stared at her sister, blinking to ward off her temporal dazzlement.

«But- I thought you wanted your own space.» She mumbled, brow pinched. «What about when you’ll have babies of your own?»

«Zelds!» Hilda scoffed and laughed at the same time. She blushed profusely at the thought, which had her squirm, leaning heavily into the redhead’s side. «We’ll think about it then. Unless you want to kick me out, sister, I’m not leaving. This is my home, you are my family, all of you.»

Zelda couldn’t contain the happy sob from erupting then, directly from the depth of her chest. She hugged her sister tightly, hoping to show how elated she was at the thought of not living under different roofs for at least some while.

The ceremony hadn’t even started and she was already a sobbing mess. How would she even survive the day? She needed her very own supply of tissues for starters.

«We’re out of blue stuff then.» She whimpered, her breath catching with a hiccup as she desperately tried not to cry.

«I might be able to fix that.» Both sisters whipped their heads to the door when they heard the voice and the light knocking sound; it was Mary’s bright blue eyes peeking from the crack in the ajar door. «May I come in?»

Zelda quickly dabbed her fingers on the underside of her eyes and sniffled, trying her best to regain her composure while her sister waved her hand encouragingly, beckoning the new guest to come in.

«Aren’t you a beautiful bride?» The brunette complimented sincerely, keeping one hand behind her back.

«Thank you, Mary.» Hilda beamed, nervously rearranging the billowy skirt on her legs. Zelda watched, smirking when she saw her little sister’s curiosity get the upper hand of it, and she stretched her neck, eyes wide as she tried to peek.

Luckily for her, Mary decided to put an end to her misery quite easily and quickly presented a blue globe of small flowers gathered all together to form a bigger one.

«It’s a hydrangea from my garden.» She explained, teeth pricking nervously at her bottom lip. «I thought I could give my contribution and help with the ‘ _ something blue _ .’»

«Thank goodness for that, you’ve been providential.» Scoffed the redhead. «Hildie came close to walking to the altar without something blue.» She sniffled once more, blinking rapidly when she noticed that her sight was going cloudy again.

«It’s alright.» Her sister crooned, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Zelda took a glimpse of Mary’s clueless expression - a mixture of amusement and mild panic - but her pout only grew when she felt like a child under her sister’s attentive cares, and Zelda hated it. This situation was getting ridiculous.

«I’m fine!» She croaked out, crossing her arms and forcefully pulled away from Hilda, even if it was the last thing she wanted to do, right now. She was a grown-up woman coping with raging hormones. She could manage. She had to, especially on a day like that one: it was Hilda’s big moment and Zelda wouldn’t steal the attention to herself when it wasn’t yet the time. Her child needed to behave and learn that lesson - the sooner the better.

«It’s a marvelous thought, Mary.» The younger woman smiled, grateful. «Thank you so much.»

«It really is.» Zelda agreed, exhaling sharply. «Beautiful.»

Mary strode to the small bouquet of white little flowers, the candid composition only seldomly broken by speckles of pink and green blooms, and carefully inserted the stem of her hydrangea among them.

«I thought it was fitting.» She mumbled, leaning against the vanity, smiling at both women. «You know, the hydrangea symbolizes prosperity, grace, and beauty, along with deep understanding between two people.» She explained with a low, soothing voice, but as she did that, Mary’s eyes never left Zelda for one instant.

Hilda watched them, her happiness doubled, if not tripled in size at the sight of her family back together, even if a little broken, even if slightly different; nonetheless, she could feel the connection - could she dare call it _love_? Well, whatever that was, it was one of the multiple kinds.

She cleared her throat and stood on her feet, fidgeting when the grandfather’s clock chimed downstairs. A thrill crawled down her spine; it was time.

«Shall we get ready?»

It was all so beautiful, and what mattered the most, was that her sister was happy. Zelda could tell it from the grin, she could tell it from the glimmer in her eyes as she walked toward the willow tree, following Sabrina as she strolled slowly to match the music, by the arm of Ambrose who chaperoned her to her future husband.

She hardly suppressed a sob when Hilda got closer to her, and they clutched hands for a moment before she kept walking.

Zelda leaned heavier into Mary’s comforting hold and scoffed when she heard her giggle softly beside her, but she decided to ignore her and focus all the attention on the ceremony: Ambrose beny down to kiss his Aunt’s cheeks, then wiggled his eyebrows at Cee in complicity while Sabrina collected the bouquet and happily sprung on the empty chair by her Aunt Zelda’s side.

The redhead thought she would have to endure a battle with herself for the whole duration of the ceremony to avoid crying, and she was right: her younger sister getting married with the love of her life, something she’d waited for decades, after an engagement that had lasted forever. Hilda deserved to finally be able to fulfill her dream. Just like she had done herself years ago, many, and yet gone by in a blink - too sudden, too soon, too precious and she didn’t even realize how much until it was too late.

_ We’re gathered here today... _

And so her mind slowly drifted off. And it wasn’t their yard anymore, and that wasn’t their secular willow tree, but it was cold and all covered in a thick cloak of snow - snow in July, could you imagine that? - and there were candles and music and she was walking in her white dress to get married to the love of her life. Zelda blinked once, twice, waiting for the vision to just disappear, but it didn’t, and there was only the familiar smile that made her heart leap and thump even faster; and there were only the familiar eyes that made her knee go weak, and there was only her touch- _her touch_ -

It did disappear, her vision, but only to transform into reality: because the touch she dreamed about, the touch she craved, it was real, and it was there, and she could recognize the familiar warmth, how that hand fitted in hers so perfectly.

Zelda exhaled sharply, tears tethering to fall down her eyes when she looked down and watched Mary’s fingers dancing in her palm, lazily stroking paths she was the only one who could see or perceive, to the unhearable notes of some music that played only in her head.

«Cee-»

Zelda sniffled and whipped her head when she heard the trembling wheeze coming from her sister’s voice thick with emotion.

«My beloved Kenny.» Hilda corrected after a while, and the redhead heard herself clicking her tongue trying to conceive a sob because she oh so rarely her sister would call her fiancé like that, and whenever she did she sounded so tender and in love that it was tooth-rotting - or unbearably romantic, in a situation like that.

«My sweet Hilda.» He replied, Cee too struggling to keep the tears at bay.

And then shakily proceeded to enunciate his promises.

And then she heard Sabrina sniffling too, scooting over on her chair until her shivering frame was nestled on her side. And was Ambrose wiping his nose with the sleeve of his tailored suit? Honestly, what was wrong with everybody? Were they trying to turn a wedding into a crying party? But then of course she was just being a hypocrite because she had been the first one to cry and certainly she would’ve been the last, and again, had she forgotten how her own wedding had turned into a crying party itself at the moment she and Lilith couldn’t utter a single word?

It was history repeating itself, and she was frustrated for her lack of self-control, but she was also happy, completely, and truly happy, that everyone felt so close to Hilda and her beau.

«They’re adorable.» Mary whispered, leaning into her.

The redhead nodded hurriedly, glad for that little distraction.

«They are.» She mumbled, hinting a smile.  _ And we were too _ , she thought, but of course, it came out in a form of a prolonged intake of air.

Zelda could remember and dream all she wanted, and torment her heart in the process because it hurt to think about the past, but what scared her the most was that it hurt less; every day, it hurt less.  
She’d promised herself she would’ve tried and not thought about Lilith, but there were times she just couldn’t avoid thinking about her, and she missed her, she missed her dearly, but she missed her less; every day, she missed her less.

Was it wrong? Would she have to let the guilt sink in? Zelda would’ve never replaced Lilith with anybody, yet there she was, hurting and missing less because Mary was by her side.

She blinked the tears away from her eyes, restoring a certain clearness to her sight when the officiant started to pronounce the vows and, alternatively, her sister and Cee said the traditional ‘I will’, promising to respect and love one another. Zelda mouthed the words herself, her hand gripping Mary’s maybe a little tighter than needed.

She hardly suppressed a sob when Hilda and Cee held hands, their gazes locked in each other as the cord was wrapped around their wrists in elegant loops, concluding the handfasting ceremony. Lilith had insisted on doing it back in Canada during their own wedding because it was supposed to bring good luck - in addition to be extremely romantic and symbolic - and in a way it did, because after all, they were still there together, weren’t they?

«In the joining of hands and the fashion of a knot,» the officiant proclaimed, «so are your lives now bound, one to another. May this knot remain tied for as long as love shall last.» He declared, then grinned, allowing the groom to, at last, kiss the bride.

A roar of applause and happy whistles easily covered the soft notes of the background music, and Zelda clapped enthusiastically, sniffling constantly now but beyond caring. She blew a kiss to her sister when Hilda turned away from her husband, and the first thing she did was looking for her - it warmed the redhead’s heart - all happy and gleeful and on the verge of tears.

It was Ambrose and Hilda, the ones who opened the dances, then Cee leaned into a deep bow in front of Sabrina and the girl bent her knees into a dramatic courtesy before joining him into a waltz. After them, other guests followed their lead, and quickly the living room was flooded with swirling couples with grins on their faces.

«What do you recommend to encourage affection?»

Zelda shivered when she felt Mary’s whispering so close to her ear that her breath fanned warmly her exposed neck.

«Dancing?» She replied softly.

Mary smiled at her and she returned it helplessly, the height disadvantage now that the brunette was wearing heels making her feel even smaller; she timidly looked up at Mary through dimly hooded eyes.

«May I?» The woman asked, and despite the soreness already settling in her feet and ankles, despite the thought of swirl and sway hoping no one would bump into her wasn’t the most alluring thing in the world, Zelda couldn’t find it in herself the strength to refuse her.

She firmly gripped the hand she was offering and let Mary guide her through the crowd. Everything else just disappeared when they moved together on the Melting Waltz notes, and the tune as well faded away slowly, her head becoming empty and then full of those eyes gazing down at her, full of Mary, full of her smile, and of the gentle touches, of the grasp of her hand around her own, or the arm loosely draped around her hip, fingers splaying on the small of her back as she led her around.

She bit her lip nervously, then tilted her head up, stretching her neck, silently beckoning Mary into a kiss. The brunette smiled and indulged her, gently pressing her lips together. It didn’t matter who was watching, because that moment was entirely theirs and if pry eyes wanted to rejoice with them, then they were the most welcome to.

It all barely lasted a couple of minutes before Ambrose switched the slow waltz into something much more lively, eliciting excited squeals from the youngsters.

«I guess this is our cue to leave the dance floor?» Mary quipped, dragging her flush to her own body as the children sprinted toward them, eager to take over the place.

«Quickly.» Zelda chuckled back and clutched at her hand, then tried her best to sneak out to a much safer spot, Mary laughing in tow.

Sitting heavily on the padded chair in the parlor, Zelda exhaled a breath and rested one arm across her belly, lazily stroking a random spot, the other draped over her eyes, the artificial lights coming from the chandelier suddenly bothersome. The party was over and it had been great, but a sickening blend of different music was playing in her head like a phantom, making her temples throb.

And she couldn’t even think about the mess left behind by the guests downstairs, from the dozens of plates in the kitchen to the trash scattered around everywhere and she just wanted to choke the Kinkle boy for having brought the confetti machine - which Hilda had loved, however, so it was partially forgiven - and now there were pieces of colorful paper on the floor, dragged around far and wide.

Yes, the house was a mess but it was salvageable, what wasn’t, instead, was the fact that they had just waved goodbye not only to the guests but to Hilda and Cee too, both gone on their honeymoon. The thought made her lower lip tremble into a pitiful pout, which Zelda skilfully hid in the crook of her arm.

«I think I’m going to die.» She mumbled dramatically.

Sabrina threw yet another dirty paper glass into a trash bag that Roz was holding up for her and giggled softly.

«Go to bed, Aunt Zee, don’t worry.» She assured, and a little choir of teens joined enthusiastically, confirming her words.

Zelda peeked from under her arm: it was only fair that the Kinkle boy would stay and help clean up the mess left behind by his diabolic confetti device, but Theo was already yawning and Ambrose had the biggest bags under his eyes after the sleepless night spent selecting song after song, and Mary… Mary had done so much already, following her around all day and showering her with concerned attention, and then she helped so much when she couldn’t, playing the perfect hostess for the wedding of the sister of-  _ what _ ? Her  _ what _ , exactly? They didn’t discuss it yet, but then again, why did she need to put a label on them? Couldn’t she just be content with whatever they were? Yes,  _ yes _ , of course she could.

«We’ll put on some music and have a little fun of our own,» Harvey prompted, throwing a conspiratorial gaze at Ambrose, «we got this, Mrs. Spellman.»

If it was the Kinkle boy trying to reassure her, then Zelda felt anything but reassured. What if they broke something of value during their so-called ‘little fun’? No, she couldn’t have that: she needed to stay and supervise, at least.

«Nonsense, you can’t do it all by yourself!» She spat, making a poor attempt to stand up from the chair, convincing herself that her tiredness wasn’t getting the upper hand. She glared at Mary when she felt herself being pushed back into her seat and the brunette smiling down at her with a half-scolding, half-diverted look.

«No offence, Auntie,» Ambrose chuckled, «but you won’t be of much help anyway.»

Zelda gasped at that, already prompt to counter back because there was plenty she could still do - bossing them around, for instance, and coordinating the sloppy work they were doing, but once again, Mary cleared her throat and harnessed her thoughts.

«Besides,» Sabrina added with a lecturing tone, «Aunt Hilda wouldn’t be pleased to know you’re still up at this hour.»

«Yes, but-»

«Mary,» Ambrose interrupted, «would you kindly put Aunt Zelda to bed? Won’t be long before she gets grumpy. _Please_.»

Mouth agape, the redhead stared at her own family conspiring against her so blatantly and in front of other people. _Yes_ , she was tired; _yes_ , she was hurting everywhere; _yes_ , she wouldn’t have gotten up from that chair for all the jewels in the world if it hadn’t become a matter of pride, but all that didn’t make them entitled to lecture her like that. She was the adult there, not the other way around! The fact that she was carrying a baby didn’t turn her into one for osmosis.

«I’m not a child!» She spat grumpily, but as soon as she did that, she realized she had practically confirmed Ambrose’s words: her family had skillfully cornered her.

«Come on.» Mary softened her gaze and gently slid her arm around her back, hoisting her up from the chair. Zelda let her, muttering goodnight when the children wished her and the baby sweet dreams, and then Mary implored them to keep it down as much as possible.

Once in the bedroom, Zelda stepped out of her shoes and left them in the way, eagerly dragging herself toward the bed so she could sit heavily on it, the mattress sinking under her weight. She leaned down, sighing in delight when her sore back finally met the soft bedspread and allowed herself to rest her eyes.

The redhead heard the other woman giggle, then a muttered swearing when she probably almost tripped over one of her discarded shoes, but didn’t open her eyes, wondering if she could actually fall asleep like that - half-thrown on the bed, her legs dangling from one side of it, fully clothed and with her ruined makeup on.

«Don’t even think about it, Zelda. Get up.»

The redhead barely cracked an eye open, only to catch a glimpse of Mary toeing her own shoes off, and gently kick them out of the way. Her voice had been soft but also commanding, and Zelda watched her unbutton her jacket and pull her white shirt out of her trousers, flashing just an inch of her taut stomach.

She swallowed and closed her eyes again, pretending she hadn’t heard, but mostly hadn’t _seen_ anything.

«Zelda? You can’t sleep like that.» Mary’s voice reached her ears again, and she was much closer than before. Sighing, the redhead blinked her eyes open and was glad that the room was only bathed in the dim light of the lampshade. «Up.» She coaxed, tugging gently at her wrist.

«Are you going to tell me what to do as well?» She whined, pretending to be annoyed.

«Ambrose put me in charge.» The other replied through a diverted smirk. « _ Up _ .»

Zelda compelled with a grunt. She could argue on the issue of Ambrose being under her own charge, but she was too tired for that. She stood up and started to messily reach behind her back to pull down the zip and get rid of the dress, but then she stopped and frowned at the misplaced chair of her vanity, which wasn’t next to her vanity anymore, but right next to her by the bed.

«Mary, what-»

«Let me.» She shushed her, and Zelda’s arms dropped when she realized Mary was working her fingers on the back, moving her hair over her shoulder, then unzipping the dress, which immediately fell loose around her body. She only had to pull out her arms from the sleeves and pushed the dress down over the swell of her stomach and hips before it surrendered to gravity, pooling at her feet.

Cool air hit her skin, and she instinctively braced herself, painfully aware of Mary’s presence behind her, and even more painfully conscious of herself, standing in her undergarments with the brunette around. Mary had seen her in her nightgown, Mary had seen her enlarged belly during the ultrasound, but that was different; it _felt_ different: Mary had never seen her so exposed those eyes had never seen her _that_ pregnant ever before, Zelda had never felt so vulnerable, and yet… there was no fear whatsoever. That tingle at the pit of her stomach was just eagerness, and for what, exactly, she could only push the thought back to avoid getting ahead of herself.

«Thank you.» She uttered, but her voice came out broken, so she cleared her throat in a pitiful attempt to conceal the quivering.

Of course, she failed, and she felt her cheeks grow warmer when Mary let out a breathy giggle.

«Come on, I promised your nephews I would put you to bed, but I won’t have you turning and huffing all night because your muscles are all knotted.» She almost winked at her, then gestured the chair by the edge of the bed. «Do you trust me?»

_ Always _ , she wanted to say, but for some reason, the air and the words got stuck in her throat, and she was only able to nod.

Mary didn’t need to speak when she helped her settle down backward on the chair, legs spread and instinctively looping around the wood ones of it to gain some balance, then pillowed her head in her folded arms, the crest rail slightly bothering under her chin until she found the right position. It was a peculiar one, but she had to admit it was quite comfortable: propped like that on the top rail of the chair, her stomach just idly pressed against the back, she could spare her spine some weight pressure and she was feeling better already.

Zelda closed her eyes, but even with her sight precluded, she was aware of the woman’s presence behind her, the duvet rustling softly as she sat down on the edge of the bed, scooting over her, the heating radiating from her body almost tangible in the air.

The redhead reminded herself to breathe when she felt careful fingers probing at the sore spot on the small of her back, which triggered an involuntary hiss to escape from her lips.

«Have I hurt you?» Mary wondered, immediately retracting her hands.

«Your hands are cold.» The other breathed out, partially feeding her a lie.

«Sorry.» Mary let out a small chuckle before rubbing her hands together, and Zelda  _ heard  _ the movement, and then  _ felt  _ it as her warmer hands approached, all nerves alert when the brunette touched her skin, working her knuckles on the tensed muscles, easing the tautness - gently at first, and then firmer.

Before she could register the blissful state she’d fallen, Mary worked her way up her spine, rubbing circles with her thumbs near her shoulders, her fingers settling comfortably on the nape of her neck.

«Oh- that feels wonderful.» Zelda practically purred, her body feeling deliciously relaxed. She let all the tension go, all those days - weeks, to be precise - of planning and waiting and vexation because nothing seemed to go right, the fears that came to her at night about her little sister getting married and forgetting about her family - which was totally unfair on her behalf - and so many other things that, luckily, were leaving her body right now, cast off by the soothing hands of Mary.

«Zelda?»

«Yes?» She hummed.

«I have to tell you something.»

Zelda swallowed, blinking her eyes open at the dim light in which the room was bathed. Even if Mary hadn’t stopped rubbing her back, there was something different about her fingers now: she felt the woman’s hesitancy, her nervousness, and the redhead’s heart clenched; and the baby too, waking up from a temporary nap, leaped inside her, squirming in its space as it became more cramped each day that passed.

Whatever Mary had to say, it seemed important. It  _ felt  _ important. Just like the night of her birthday, when the brunette had clearly something to say, but then pulled back and it just felt wrong to pressure her into talking, so Zelda just didn’t. It wouldn’t happen this time, though.

Turning her head back over her shoulder, as far as her neck would allow her, she looked at Mary, and then got hypnotized, for a moment, by the way she was pricking at her bottom lip with her teeth.

«What is it, Mary?»

The woman gave her a tight smile, then dropped her hands and Zelda immediately mourned silently for the loss of contact.

«For some reason, it seemed easier when you weren’t looking at me.» She chuckled nervously, then cleared her throat.

Zelda offered an encouraging smile, but let her take her time. 

«You don’t have to–»

«Zelda, I–»

They both heaved a small giggle, for which they were glad because it released some tension. Then Mary averted her eyes and got a deep intake of air, expanding her chest and filling her lungs before speaking; Zelda could almost hear her thinking as she mumbles to herself ‘ _ here goes nothing’ _ .

«I think that now–» Mary held her breath, «I think that I can safely say that I love you.» She mumbled hurriedly, then nodded sharply to herself, the corner of her mouth twitching upward almost as if they had a will of their own. «Yes, _I love you_.» She confirmed, frowning, almost as if she couldn’t believe she actually had found the courage in herself to utter those words.

Zelda stared at her surprise for a moment, and she knew she should’ve said something, but the words just didn’t come out.

How many months had passed since the last time she’d heard those words, carried by that voice, coming from that mouth? Too many. The last time she did, it was Lilith bidding goodnight through a phone.

But no, that wasn’t right: it wasn’t the first time she heard 'I love you' since Lilith, that was the first  _ Mary  _ was telling she loved her.  _ Mary loved her _ .

Not as a residue of her wife, but as Mary. Mary, who demanded to be taken as simply herself even when it became too much at times, Mary who was always by her side, Mary who wanted to take care of her and her baby.  _ That  _ Mary loved her.

Swallowing thickly, Zelda averted her eyes and, without uttering a word, she went back to look ahead of herself, her brain horribly blank while she was in desperate need to have something - anything - to say. She needed a moment to collect her thoughts, even if she couldn’t just escape and run away from the room, of from Mary, because her eyes wandered around carelessly, and there she was in the mirror, her haunted face reflected on the polished surface, and when the redhead gasped, catching the blazing blue of her eyes, she also felt the woman behind her, her attentive fingers grasping her shoulder, grounding her, but somehow in the wrong way, because she felt suddenly trapped. Mary was everywhere around her, outside in the room and inside in her head, and there was no escape.

Zelda drew a sharp breath, panting through an open mouth, but the cool air in her lungs soothed nothing and she felt her throat clench tight. She was waiting for that exact moment since the accident, which happened seven months ago, and now that it did happen, she had nothing better to do than to panic about it… and for what? What was wrong with her? What broke inside of her? A lot of things, but she thought Mary had glued the pieces back together.

«Breathe?» The brunette’s voice was soft when she shushed her, her fingers moving in deft circles as she rubbed the hollow space between her shoulder blades.

It worked: air did enter and leave her chest somewhat regularly, and it was easy to match her breathing with Mary’s, warm and soothing against the back of her neck.

_Mary loved her_.

Was she supposed to say it back? Probably. Did she want to? Absolutely.

Then why the words wouldn’t come out from her lips?

«Mary–» She mumbled, unsure how to continue from there.

«Zelda, _no_.» The other interrupted, and there was no hurt, no vexation in her voice, so the redhead just stopped and listened. «I don’t want you to say it back.» A pause, a sigh. «I know you’re not ready-  _ yet _ .» Another pause, another sigh. Through the reflection in the mirror, Zelda saw her closing her eyes as she collected the next shaky breath. «I just wanted to tell you. I  _ needed  _ to tell you.»

Zelda felt her backing away again, the soft shifting of fabric and a squeak from the mattress when Mary leaned over, placed a kiss on her bare shoulder and stood up, getting rid of her undone tie and blouse. Circling the chair on which Zelda was still nestled, she lowered herself to her eye level and smiled fondly.

«Come to bed?» She asked, offering her hand. «I just want to hold you.»

The chair was put back in its place and used as a deposit for all the discarded clothes, then Zelda laid down in her usual position, shivering when her legs dove beneath the cold sheets. Mary quickly followed, flushing her body against Zelda’s - chest against her back, legs framing hers, her face nuzzled in the crook of her neck, auburn hair used as a second case for her pillow - and draped the covers on both of them.

«Happy Valentine’s day.» She murmured, placing a kiss on the nape of her neck.

«Happy Valentine’s day.» Zelda replied automatically, squeezing instinctively the arm hooked around her side.

Flushed against the other, sharing body heat, made Zelda terribly self-conscious, and while Mary dozed off, her slow breaths forming a lullaby around her, the redhead stared wide-eyed at a random spot on the wall.

Mary loved her. In which way? There were so many ways to love another person.

Mary loved her. The same woman who was eager to spend time with her, take care of her, and wanted to know her and to be involved in her life, had suddenly - or not so suddenly after all - felt the need to voice her sentiment.

Mary loved her. And of course, she expected something in return.

Mary loved her, and Zelda did too; but she didn’t say it back.

Zelda didn’t sleep a blink that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❣ “So, what do you recommend to encourage affection?” “Dancing.” quote by Jane Austen.  
> ❣ Melting Waltz: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vgKl55KPZwo
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think: **I really need your support**. Make me happy! Thank you ♡


	29. Andante, andante

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

**Chapter 29 - Andante, andante**

_Oh please, don’t let me down._

Cee and Hilda came back after only five days of honeymoon.

They had decided to visit New York for a whole week because her bubbly little sister claimed she couldn’t possibly stay away for any longer than that - if she didn’t wish to come back with the house on fire and her family starving or bloated with unhealthy takeout meals.

At first, Zelda had acted annoyed, claiming she could manage on her own just fine - even though she used to ask all sort of things whenever Hilda phoned her - but she was genuinely relieved when, on the brink of the fifth day, she saw the picturesque van of Cee - decorated with all sorts of kitsch spray-drawings from horror movies - pulling in the Mortuary driveway.  
From the window kitchen, Zelda had beamed at the sight of Hilda eagerly jumping off the vehicle and, drying her hands quickly, she rushed to the front door, yelling chaotically that Auntie Hilda and Uncle Cee were back. She didn’t wait for any of her nephews to answer before opening the door, suddenly realizing how unsettling had been to live in that house without her little sister around.

Hilda hugged her tightly, and the redhead even allowed her to speak sweet nonsense to the unborn child, only to shoo her off when she thought it was enough - merely five minutes that felt like an eternity.

Zelda had wondered if Hilda was telling the truth when she said they came back because they both missed everyone too much to enjoy their vacation, but after seeing her sister’s husband eagerly hugging Sabrina and presenting Ambrose with a very interesting old-looking book that immediately caught her nephew’s attention, the older Spellman sister knew Hilda was telling the truth.  
And how could she not trust her in the first place, when Lilith and she had done the same exact thing, booking an early plane from Canada because neither of them could bear the distance an hour longer?

Within a couple of days, Cee had moved in the manor, and Mary had helped with her own car to avoid multiple trips from the shop to the Mortuary. Just like Hilda had announced, they took the biggest of the spare room and turned it into a love-nest: the furniture was changed, the curtains removed, a lot of horror stuff that Zelda disliked were placed everywhere, and the walls were repainted - forcing the redhead to stay confined downstairs for a whole day because she wasn’t supposed to breathe the poisonous air.  
Overall, the new arrangement quickly grew on everybody, and since the first night, they all basked inside a quiet harmony that didn’t felt new at all: they would wake up and eat breakfast, they would work - or go to school, in Sabrina’s case - and they would spend a lot of time together, they would have dinner and move to the living room to watch a movie nobody really watched, too busy talking and discussing this or that topic.

Mary was there often - talking to her, asking things, holding her on the couch in the evening and in bed at night - and everything seemed to go back to normal, but it wasn’t. They hadn’t talked yet; actually, they did, in a way, but it didn’t soothe Zelda’s soul, only made her more agitated.

Mary had said that she loved her, but Zelda yet had to say it back.

Mary was the one who said she would wait when Zelda had promised the same exact thing during all those months.

It was all wrong, she had control over the situation, but she kept standing there, without doing much to change things. It was all in her hands and, still, she seemed unable to move. Was it fear?

Wincing when she threw her head back and hid dully the bathtub, Zelda scoffed loudly. No, it wasn’t fear, the thing she felt; or maybe, fear was just a consequence of the real sentiment that was slowly eating her insides: the truth was that Zelda felt _guilty_. Utterly and hopelessly guilty.

Because despite her promises and her good intentions, there was still a part of her that rejected Mary and hoped Lilith would come back to her. A small bit of her heart stubbornly was clinging to that wish and hope that was getting further and further away each day. And even if it was small and unremarkable, it would scream in her head at times, and it would poison her heart because Mary was good, she was the same person, _physically_ she was the same person and she was perfect, but _emotionally_ … emotionally it felt wrong because it felt like cheating.

For as absurd as it sounded, that small part of her that yearned for her wife told her that loving Mary would mean forgetting about Lilith, even if the two women shared the same body and one’s soul was hidden or merged with the other’s. 

It was blatantly clear now that the problem had never been Mary, the problem had always been Zelda, and she felt simply stupid not having accepted it before. She would’ve spared darling Mary so much already because even if she was acting sweet and like nothing happened, she knew she was hurting.

And how could she not? Zelda had yearned to have her fully for months and when she finally did, she ran away and retreated. It was unfair, she’d been selfish.

She had to change her mind, finally suffocating that lousy voice in her brain that whispered Lilith’s name and memories into her mind whenever she allowed it to float on a past that was just past.

She had to ask herself not only if Mary wanted her - that was more clear as of now - Zelda had to ask, once and for all, if she truly wanted Mary in return. Mary, not a faded echo of her wife. Mary, not hoping for her wife to eventually come back to her. Mary and nothing else but _Mary_.

Pretending that the moisture on her cheeks was just extra steam rising from the tub, she prepared herself to mourn again.

Because in order to have Mary, she had to accept that Lilith was gone. Gone as ‘not dead’, because she could always gaze in those familiar eyes and find love there. Love, which was the only thing that mattered.

She’d fallen in love with Lilith because she found her home there, her shelter, her companion, her everything… she needed to fall in love all over again for the same things, for the same eyes, and it would be easy since that, after all, Mary was all those things, and she owned the same eyes, literally. She had to stop waiting for Mary to come closer - she’d done her part - it was her turn now to go to her.

Mary was the one the universe had sent her back and Zelda had the duty to cherish that miraculous gift.

Mary deserved to be treated as such, to receive twice as much the things she was giving.

Her family deserved a break from taking care of her.

Her baby deserved the unconditional, unabashed love of another mother too because it was the promise she made her future child the moment it was conceived.

And if that wasn’t enough, she knew that Lilith would want all of that too, for all of them. If only to honor her memory and perpetrate her legacy, she needed to prove to Mary she was ready to fall in love again, that Mary was the one she truly wanted in her life.

«I promise to take care of all the messes I’ve caused before you’re here.» She promised, speaking softly as she ran her hands across the swell of her belly, her fingers splaying on the taut skin she found there, from the top of the dome peeking from the soapy water to the base.

Smiling, she marveled for a moment at the growing expanse of her stomach, which moved actively when she poked the spot she knew would elicit a lively reaction from the babe inside, as if ticklish.  
Her due date wasn’t until a couple of months and even if slightly under the average size, her child was growing strong. Zelda couldn’t wait for it to come to the world, but she also felt the need to have her life in order - something more than just to clean and tidy up the whole house more times than needed - hence Mary had to be her priority now.

She startled when she heard the light knocking on the door and muttered profanities under her breath when some water sloshed over the edge of the tub for her jerky movement.

«Zelds?» Her sister called, «Are you alright in there, love?»

«Yes.» The redhead answered hurriedly, gripping the edge of the tub and hoisting herself into a more upright sitting position. A quick glance at her watch balanced on the sink and frowned at the realization that she’d been soaking in there for over half an hour without doing anything else but brooding. «I’ll be out in a minute.»

«Do you need help?»

Zelda huffed.

«No.» She spat. «Thank you.» She added then, trying her best not to sound vexed. At least she hadn’t proposed to call her husband like the other day, thinking it was fine now for Cee to ever see her in such a state of undress. Yes, he was family now, but there were boundaries and she still had some dignity left.

«Be careful.» Hilda said with glee. «I’ll be downstairs with Cee watching a movie.»

Before Zelda could lash out on the remark - of course she would be careful, even if she was still capable of getting out the bathtub, she was forced to do it with a speed of a sloth - she heard Hilda’s steps leaving her room.

Securing the robe with a tight knot just below her breasts, she studied herself in the steam-coated mirror above the sink.

She could do it.

She nodded to herself while ironing her hair. Yes, she could talk to Mary.

Hairpins poking from her lips, she took a long breath through her nose.

Yes, she could talk to Mary and say that she loved her back… perhaps.

But one thing for sure, she needed to make sure Mary knew she was wanted, completely.

Smoothing down the sweater and combing her fingers through her hair one last time, Zelda grabbed her phone and bag and waddled downstairs.

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon which she was supposed to spend in the house reading - or cleaning around was more likable - with Vinegar Tom curled by her side and with her sister and brother-in-law; Ambrose was in Riverdale with some friends, probably shopping at the mall, and Sabrina was in her room studying for a test. Zelda was supposed to help her with some questions that very night like usually before an important or difficult exam, but there was time for that since it was only early afternoon; besides, she had more pressing matters roaming inside her head now, things she knew she couldn’t ignore, let alone delay. Things, of course, that couldn’t be done over a phone, so her only option was to go to the cottage hoping Mary wouldn’t be buried in essays to review or grade.

«Hilda?» She called, struggling as she tried to slip on her boots in the hallway.

«Yes, love?» Her sister answered back, shouting from the living room over the quiet muffled sound coming from the tv. «If you can’t find your book, we already brought it here for you.»

Torn between letting her hormones have the upper hand and cry for the kind gesture, or scoff because they, once again, had felt the need to step in and baby her, Zelda bit her tongue and, instead, reached out for her coat.

«Actually, I’m going out.» She informed them.

In a matter of ten seconds, Zelda watched Cee and his wife rushing in the hallway, a bowl of popcorn still in hand. Startled, the redhead almost tripped over her own discarded slippers. She glared at them because even if neither of them dared to speak, their concerns were blatantly written all over their faces, both about to shower her with questions about where she was going and why, when she was supposed to rest.

«Zelda, you’re supposed to–»

«Hildie–» She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, «would you please check on Sabrina and bring her a snack, later?»

«Of course I will.» Her sister assured, her brow slightly pinched.

«I need to go-» 

«To Mary?» Hilda interrupted; her grimace completely gone, it transformed into a soft, knowing smile. She nodded. «Go on, love. Should we expect you for dinner?»

Zelda swallowed. She didn’t think about it: perhaps, if things had gone right, she would want to spend some time with Mary alone - and why would things have to go wrong in the first place? For plenty of reasons, Zelda being the first one since she seemed to be prone to make mistakes no matter what.

«I don’t know.» She answered sincerely.

«Well, call me later.» Hilda offered. Cee yelped when his wife’s elbow was jammed into his ribcage. «And don’t worry about a thing, love: I’ll stay with Sabrina tonight if you happen to be late.»

The redhead nodded with her eyes narrowed, not quite enjoying her sister’s smug expression, quickly joined by her husband’s as soon as he gasped as if he’d just had a lifetime revelation of some sort. Everybody seemed to know things before she did, but it didn’t matter: she was about to set things right, once done people would maybe stop patronizing her on that issue, at least.

«Thank you.» She mumbled hurriedly. «But I’ll be back tonight.» She promised, more to herself, because she would hate for Sabrina to be the one left behind when it was her life to be a mess.

Climbing on the car, Zelda drove quietly down the road, hoping that a little solitude would clear her mind. At first, she started to mumble a hypothetical speech, but then she realized it would be too long to remember correctly and it would be extremely awkward to stand there, frozen, because she couldn’t remember a specific thing that seemed incredibly important to cite.

The baby ramming its little knee - or elbow? - into her stomach told her she was overthinking again and, possibly, putting herself into an agitated state that wouldn’t be good for anyone. Sighing, she slowed down and turned up the radio, hoping some relaxing music would calm her nerves.

She huffed frustratedly, pushing buttons to change stations, looking for something different than those ear-shattering modern music Sabrina and Ambrose seemed to like so much, but not too soft and quiet like classical music, since she already seemed prone to fall asleep randomly during the day without the need of a soothing tune in the car to coax into a life-threatening nap in the middle of the road.

When she finally seemed to have found the right song, the exit for the little unpaved path for Mary’s cottage approached. She sighed, turning off the radio before the song could turn into an eerie melody of disconnected croaks, and kept going, her gaze getting lost between the familiar trees in search of the even more familiar cottage.

She pulled over next to Mary’s car and turned off the engine.

Zelda stared for a moment at the house, the light coming from inside, the blurred figures moving behind the glass panels. A smile crept on her lips when she walked to the door, anxiety fading into excitement and turning into an unsettling feeling of dread blooming from her heart and spreading through her limbs.

Zelda peeked from the window, frowning when she didn’t see Mary in the living room, but a pile of scattered papers on the coffee table and the fire dancing in the mantel, its steady crackling merging with the low hum of the record player spinning purposelessly.

She frowned, wondering where Mary could’ve gone, and knocked on the door. When nobody answered, she knocked again, louder.

«Mary?» She called, huffing frustratedly when still nothing came to greet her. Zelda tried to grab the handle and twisted it, wincing disapprovingly when she found the door open. «Mary? How many times do I have to remind you that it’s dangerous to leave the door unlocked?» Raising her voice to make her presence known - even if it would teach her a lesson, she didn’t want to startle her - she peeked inside the living room and let herself in.

She saw the papers on the coffee table, the mug of unfinished coffee next to a leaking pen which was soiling a napkin with red ink, then she saw the empty glass and the bottle of whiskey.  
Sighing, she put the cap back on the pen and grabbed both the mug and the glass; on her way to the kitchen, she turned off the record player and then waddled to the adjacent room to put the two items into the sink and fill them with fresh water.

Memories started to float back in her mind - cooking together, the lazy Sunday mornings where they dragged out of bed half-naked only to put food in their systems - but the redhead stubbornly pushed them back. Perhaps Mary had gone out for a stroll, even if it had been reckless on her behalf to leave the fire burning - perhaps she could wait for her and-

«Oh, Zelda it’s you!»

Trying not to startle Mary, it had been Mary who successfully had startled her.

Spinning on herself and gripping the edge of the sink, Zelda sighed sharply and closed her eyes for a moment, a diverted smile creeping on her lips.

«That’s why you should lock your door.» She mumbled, swallowing thickly.

«I thought someone broke in.» Mary whispered back.

«To do your dishes?» The other teased and finally opened her eyes.

Her smile faded away quickly when she took Mary in: almost curved on herself, the brunette was looking at her with a haunting expression, arms crossed over her chest as if she was trying to stop shivering from a coldness that only she could feel, her eyes shiny - too shiny - and she could see the faintest halo of red around them behind her glasses.

«Mary?» She breathed out, slowly approaching her, brow pinched. «Have you been crying?»

When she reached out with her hand to cup her cheek and test the moisture she could’ve found there herself, and Mary flinched, her heart clenched; it had been a slight movement, barely visible, but Zelda caught it nonetheless. She hated it to see her like that and to think that she might’ve been the cause of such distress it was the worst.

«No.» Mary gave her a tight smile and shook her head. «No, I’m fine, I was just- dusting. Got in my eyes.»

They both knew she was lying, but Zelda thought better not to insist: after all, if she was the cause of that, she was hoping to put a remedy to it quite soon. Everything had to go well, following the script and that little movie that played in her head.

«I thought you were spending the afternoon home.»

«I was.» Zelda confirmed. «I hope I’m not intruding.»

«No.» Mary drew another sharp sigh, rubbed her forehead with her hand tiredly, clearing her throat. She looked exhausted. «I couldn’t concentrate anyway.»

«I hoped you might be in the mood for a walk in the woods with me?» Zelda asked, teeth scraping at her chapped bottom lip. «I need to talk to you.» She added with a soft, pleading voice.

Mary lifted her head and met her gaze. She stared at the woman in front of her with an illegible expression.

«A walk.» She echoed, almost as if she was hearing that word for the first time in her life. «Yes, a walk might be a good idea.»

Zelda nodded and dared to take another step closer. This time, Mary didn’t make the slightest attempt to back away.

«Are you sure you’re alright?»

Mary nodded. Another tight smile.

«Positive.» She breathed out, and the haunting grimace slightly shifted into a one of concern. «You’re sure you want to go in the woods?»

Zelda smiled at her. She carefully slid her hand in hers and squeezed lightly, the thumping of her heart easing when she felt Mary relax, then drew a calmer breath.

«Yes, I’m sure.» She nodded. «I have to show you something.»

Zelda was glad that the woods seemed to still have that soothing effect on her. The deeper they went into the forest, the more the noises coming from the roads and anything that wasn’t natural, faded, and they walked in silence, side by side, both drowning in those ethereal distant sounds that only belonged to the forest.

«Are you feeling better?» The redhead inquired after a few minutes of comfortable silence, and tentatively bumped their arms together while squeezing tighter on their intertwined fingers.

«Yes.» Mary exhaled, the tip of her nose red due to the chilly breeze. «I guess I needed some fresh air.»

«What were you doing?» Zelda asked, biting the inside of her cheek, only peeking at her with the corner of her eye. Mary smirked in her direction, the gloomy expression on her face long forgotten, disappeared between the highest leaves.

«I thought you were the one who wanted to talk to me about something.» The brunette countered. «Or I was under the wrong impression?»

«You weren’t.» She confirmed, filling her lungs. Anxiety was rising within her chest, a swirl of opposing feelings battling inside her ribcage, and a tornado of haunting thoughts crowding her head: what if all went wrong? What if Mary had finally had enough of her? She couldn’t blame her. «And the things I have to tell you are important. I mean- it’s one thing. And it’s vital.»

«Would you like to take a break? Sit on that trunk over there?»

It sure seemed alluring, but Zelda shook her head no.

«Let’s keep walking, please?»

«Sure.» Mary nodded nervously, clutching tighter at her arm when she felt the dirt on the path increasing, forcing them both to trudge in the mud, making their way through a coat of dead leaves and crunchy sticks.

They fell silent again, but the more they walked, the more Zelda felt torn: one part of her was absolutely thrilled, the other half positively terrified.

When they finally reached a clearing, they stopped to catch their breaths, and the redhead immediately whipped her head to the side only to be able to study the other woman’s expression. She was looking for any smallest change on her face, a twitch of her mouth, a new line forming between her eyebrows and her forehead, a sparkle flashing in the blue of her eyes, so bright in the afternoon light filtered by the trees to almost seem iridescent.

«What is this place?»

Zelda hardly concealed her elation when she noticed that she had done all - her mouth had twitched, her brow had furrowed, her eyes were darting left and right, capturing a whole spectrum of lights that made her irises look alive - but it wasn’t only a hint of action, her whole face changed and her breath caught in a singultus.

Whether it was a genuine curiosity or a distant phantom memory painting ghosts on her poisoned mind, Zelda couldn’t really tell, but neither did it matter because, if things were to go right, there wouldn’t be a difference, nothing would’ve mattered but the present, the here, the now.

«Come.» She whispered softly, and squeezed her hand encouragingly, tugging Mary.

Gently, she coaxed her to follow down the path for a little more, they rounded a corner, climbed a small hill, and there it was, the place Zelda was looking for.  
She took a deep breath as if she was trying to smell that very air because it was special, different from the rest lingering in other corners of the forest.

«Where did you take me?» Mary mumbled, swallowing thickly.

Zelda was so eager to unburden her heart that barely cataloged the mild resistance the other woman was unawarely pulling when walking behind her, nor she noticed the doubt in her voice, which the redhead registered as a mere curiosity.

«This bridge is very dear to me.» She said with a reverential tone, her teeth scraping impatiently at her lips. Slowly, as if they were pacing on holy ground, she led the way, smiling helplessly when she heard and felt the old planks squeak and bend under her feet.

«Many years ago,» Zelda continued, gripping the wooden rail with her free hand, her gaze locked in the placid stream of water running below the bridge, «in this very place, my new life started.» She sighed, then turned to look at Mary and smiled when she noticed the woman was already staring. The redhead didn’t mind her blank expression: it would transform in a matter of seconds: she was about to make things right. «As if I was born again, you see? Everything changed.» She squirmed at the memory, hoping the vague story could be eloquent enough, but not too explicit to ruin the meaning of the speech, which was aimed to make sure that she didn’t think about the past anymore.

«Zelda-» The brunette exhaled, but then she fell unnaturally silent, and just shook her head softly.

Dread settled in Zelda’s stomach, and now she was more than determined to ward off whatever doubt was brooding inside her head.

«I thought it would be nice to bring you here to set another ground zero.» She explained. «Show you that I’m really committed.» She winced when she pulled maybe a little too hard on her lips, ripping off a peel of skin.

Zelda sighed and spun on her heels, one hand still gripping the rail, the other reaching out to grab Mary’s. Their gazes locked immediately as her fingers did, and the redhead got lost in the glimmer of those eyes, the slightly aghast expression flashing on her beautiful face.

«Zelda-» She mumbled, but once again her jaw hung slack.

The younger woman swallowed, struggling to ignore the thumping of her heart and the uncomfortable shifting of the baby fret around in her belly. Was Mary pulling back? Just when she was ready to devote herself completely to her? Mary needed to hear what she had to say, Mary needed to know she was ready. No more hesitations, no more things left unsaid.

«I know I’ve been awful.» She blurted out, her eyes fluttering close for a second. She inhaled and squeezed the brunette’s hand. «And there are a lot of things to say, but there’ll be time. What I want to tell you right now is that, after the tragedy, you’re the best thing that happened to me, Mary.» She said sincerely, her voice never faltering once. «I was scared and I didn’t even know I was.» She continued. «And I’m sorry for expecting something from you that, deep inside, I wasn’t ready to give you in return.»

«Listen, Zelda, I-»

It was the third time the woman tried to talk, but each time it was like the words slipped out of her brain and ran away, unreachable.

Zelda looked at her, mortified: it wasn’t working the way she hoped. How could she express so much joy in a sentence to reassure Mary? How could she tell her about the hope Mary had brought back in her life, about the happiness and the brightness the redhead thought she’d lost forever?

She walked closer to the shivering form of the woman, impossibly close, and drew their laced hand up, between their chests.

«But I’m ready now, I swear it.» She said, slowly and surely. Unconsciously, her lips bent in a smile, while the other woman's remained parted in dismay. «You deserve so much, Mary Wardwell, and I want to give that to you, everything.»

A whisper that nobody could’ve heard.

«Stop.» The word was barely mouthed.

The other sighed.

«If you still want me, I need you to know that I do lo–»

« _Stop!_ » Mary almost shouted.

So Zelda stopped.  
Her heart sunk low in the pit of her stomach, and soon, what she could hear, were only the irregular beatings drumming in her ears. The silence of the forest, once soothing and calm, was now heavy and suffocating.

Mary had yanked her hand from hers, and was now gripping the wooden rail of the bridge so hard that her knuckles were white; panting hard through her mouth, her head bowed down seemingly to stare at the placid river below, she was shaking.

«Mary?» Zelda called tentatively, studying her face without moving she was paler than ever, and when she reached out to cup her cheek and coax her to turn her head, the redhead winced at the sudden warmth of her skin.

Mary didn’t move: she kept staring into the waters.

«I didn’t mean to yell.» She mumbled, but her voice sounded distant.

«It’s fine.» The other replied, struggling to keep the quivering of her voice at bay. Frankly, she deserved to be yelled at for all the suffering she’d procured, but on the other hand, she thought Mary would’ve understood her intentions. «Did I say something wrong?»

«No- _yes_.» The brunette shook her head hurriedly. «I don’t want you to say that you love me.» She said and Zelda was taken aback by the determination of her voice.

«But I want to.» The redhead countered, brow furrowed. «You said you didn’t want me to tell you if I wasn’t ready, but now I am.» Suddenly feeling at the mercy of something she couldn’t understand, Zelda felt hot tears pricking the corner of her eyes. It all had seemed so distant, and then slowly they found each other, got so close, and now… they were drifting apart again?

«I don’t want you to say that to _me_.» Mary exhaled, throwing back her head to look up at the sky. The other could see the movements of her exposed throat as she struggled to breathe and swallow. «Because- because there wouldn’t be any way to tell to whom you’re saying those words.»

Zelda blinked, lips ajar, a part of her wanting to believe those words meant that the long-gone hope had returned, the other part of her yearning to stay true to her promise.

«Mary-» She bit the inside of her cheek at the pained grimace the woman gave at the mere sound of that name. Zelda carefully latched her fingers on her arm, trying to make her know that, whatever it was, she was there. «What do you mean by that?»

The brunette swallowed again, then slowly turned to face her and Zelda could see a light sheen of sweat glimmer right below the hairline; the lost glance she gave, her blue eyes bleary, watching without really seeing anything, sent a pang to her stomach.

Unconsciously, Zelda tilted her head to the side, fighting the urge to just wrap her arms around her and kiss the fear away, but in the state she was, the last thing she needed was starling her or putting pressure on the fragile cracks webbing inside of her right now. Breaking her would’ve meant never getting her back in one whole piece.

Once again, she needed to be practical and preserve the salvageable. Who knew that unexpected turn of events would lead to a brighter future than the one she had envisaged only an hour earlier.

«Should we go back?» She asked softly, carefully resting her hand on her hip, her arm protectively wrapped around the small of her back, already guiding her away from the bridge.

The woman nodded, but her eyes remained absent.  
«Yes, please.» She agreed, effortlessly following her lead.

Zelda leaned in the hold when she felt her doing the same. She couldn’t have Mary collapse in the middle of the forest with very few chances to get a signal on the phone.

Slowly but steadily, they retraced the path back to the cottage.

Zelda moved the embers in the mantel and lit up the fire back. After they both shed their coats and took off their dirty shoes, the brunette went to curl on the couch absently, as if under a spell. Zelda could feel her unseeing eyes following her movements, her breath so thick to compete with the crackling of the new log thrown into the ashes. Blue eyes got lost on the newborn flames, and without saying anything, the redhead moved to the kitchen to make tea.

Despite the millions of questions brewing inside her head, Zelda thought it was better to let her recover, a little silence in the comfort of her own home would certainly bring some clearance. For a moment, as she waited for the kettle to whistle, she thought about calling her sister - warn her she might really stay there for the night, tell her about the surprising turn of events - but then how could anyone be able to give her advice in a situation like that?

She moved with confidence among the drawers and cabinets, muscle memories helping her retrieve two mugs and as many chamomile tea bags - in one of the mugs, she added a sickening amount of sugar too.

Walking back into the living room with the mugs in her hands, she watched Mary staring into the fire. Zelda sat down beside her and offered the sweeter tea to the woman beside her.

«Drink this.» She murmured, encouragingly, and smiled when the brunette seemed to rouse from her state of awaken-slumber to take the mug from her hands.

She thought about giving her a warning because the china was scalding hot, but Mary was already nestling it in her lap, fingers running up and down the smooth surface, almost longing for the burning sensation on her skin.

Who better than she could understand? Zelda had been the first to seek up for anything that made her feel something - even pain - when her body had gone numb after the plane crash.

She took a long breath and blew on her own tea, sipping it with caution. She hoped a comforting silence would descend upon them, but instead, as the seconds went by, marked regularly with the ticking of the mantel clock, everything seemed to grow louder. Zelda knew she had to wait, and yet she couldn’t help but wonder if that was it: just when she thought she was going to settle down her life, accept her destiny and embrace the wonderful life she was given, fate was throwing yet another unplanned event to turn her convictions upside-down. What if that was the event she was waiting for? The same she had worked so hard to discard?

Zelda thought she was in control, for once. Again, she was wrong.

«I’m sorry I yelled.» The brunette breathed out.

With the corner of her eye, Zelda noticed she was bringing the mug back into her lap after taking a big gulp of the chamomile.

«Don’t worry.» She mumbled back, trying to sound reassuring. Putting the mug on the coffee table, she scooted over, tucking one of her legs under her so she could be even nearer to the woman, hoping the closeness would provide some comfort.

«For a moment,» the brunette whispered, her voice trapped between hiccups, «for a moment we switched.» She swallowed hard, eyes fluttering close. «On the bridge. I was the one doing the talking, it was all blurred and confusing, and you-» Her breath hitched when her eyes snapped back open, blue fixing in green, searching for an imaginary anchor. Zelda smiled and nodded in mute support. «You looked happy. I _felt_ happy. But I was seeing and feeling things that weren’t happening at that moment.»

The redhead watched her bow her head again, slowly shaking it, then let out a breathy chuckle, her grip on the mug growing in intensity.

«It’s alright.» It was the only thing that Zelda could utter: she was beginning to remember, finally?

Reaching out to move a strand of dark hair that had stuck on her forehead, she sighed in relief when she noticed that the unnatural warmth was gone, her skin was still sweaty but at least her complexion was back to normal.

She pushed the lock behind her ear, and it was in that moment that the other woman yanked her own glasses off, hurled blindly the offending object on the coffee table, and rubbed her hand on her face rather harshly.

«Tell me about it.» She said behind her palm, her voice coming out muffled and incredibly tired.

«About what?» Zelda rested her arm on the back of the couch, not quite holding her, but offering shelter nonetheless - fingers gravitating on the back of her head, without really touching her hair.

She unpeeled the hand from her face. A pause, a ragged intake of air.

«About the day she- about the day _I_ proposed.»

Zelda feared the mad thumping of her heart could be heard outside her body too.

Not only memories were coming back, but for the first time, Mary had referred to herself with the first person for something concerning solely and exclusively Lilith. _Lilith_. How much time had passed since that name had crossed her thoughts associated with the present?

«You took me for a walk in the woods on my birthday,» Zelda started to tell her, her voice feeble, thick with unspoken emotions, «at one point, I was freezing and I asked you to lend me your jacket since you weren’t using it, but you refused. I asked again and you kept refusing.» A smile appeared on her lips at the reminiscence. «I was so vexed, I threatened to go back to the cottage alone, but you literally dragged me to the bridge.» She took a breath when she noticed the blank expression on the woman’s face. Was it working? Or was she talking into the wind, hoping to awake something meant to remain asleep? «You said you knew that if you’d lent me the jacket, I would’ve shoved my hands in the pockets and spoiled the surprise.» She started to prick at her lip, then nodded softly, the nail of her thumb absent-mindedly tapping on the metallic bands wrapping the finger of her left hand. «And then you took out the box with the ring inside, and-»

«Tell me what you were wearing.» The brunette demanded, eyes fixed on the steaming mug in her lap.

Zelda frowned, wondering if the interruption was a good thing or a bad one; but she was asking things, very specific things, so it couldn’t be negative. Zelda had shown her photos when she wasn’t supposed to, tried to make her remember when it wasn’t the time, now that it was Mary asking, she couldn’t possibly deny her.

«I was wearing a dress with a belt-»

«Gold.»

Zelda shook her head gently, a fond smile splaying on her lips.

«No, it was a green dress.»

«The belt.» The woman insisted. «The belt was gold, a chain.»

Zelda’s heart skipped a beat: it was correct.

Sight suddenly becoming blurry, she hurriedly wiped away tears. She was remembering things without help, the redhead had barely given small cues and she was adding details only her wife would remember and cherish so dearly.

«Mary...» She murmured, pride blooming in her chest, but the woman didn’t move.  
Biting so hard on her lip she drew blood, she held her breath and braced herself before speaking again. «Lilith?»

When the other slowly, hesitantly, turned, Zelda could see herself in those eyes and recognized the person beyond them.

And when, after a while, their lips met into an unhurried kiss, they both sighed at the taste: after walking in the wastelands for far too long, finally and ultimately, they were both coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One minute of silence for all the #TeamMary ppl out there 💔 she will be missed.  
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think: **I really need your support**. Make me happy! Thank you ♡


	30. My kingdom awaits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

**Chapter 30 - My kingdom awaits**

_Let the rain wash away  
_ _all the pain of yesterday._

Lilith. Lilith was back. Her wife was back. Suddenly, just when she’d made up her mind to move on, Lilith came back to her.

Zelda let that name roll on her tongue, she savored the sweet taste of it in her mouth when she kissed Lilith again, and then salty tears blended in as well.

As greedy fingers dug into the wild mane of hair, pulling desperately at the scalp when she felt their closeness could never suffice, her mind filled with everything that had happened in the past months. How could she tell her wife how much she missed her? How could she tell her and make her understand the agony of waiting? Of mourning the love of her life at her funeral, finding out that she was alive only to realize that she was not dead but gone anyway, how could she tell her about the torment of accepting another, renouncing the past completely, loving the same person and feeling like cheating nonetheless?

Words seemed meaningless compared to the real feeling of loss and loneliness that had haunted her for months, but then again, did a word even exist to express what she truly felt? No, there wasn’t. So Zelda just kissed her again, and melted into their embrace, and laughed and cried altogether when Lilith returned the kiss, messily, and desperately, doubling the passion and the longing she must’ve been feeling too.

Mary’s kisses had been tender and cautious, there had been love in them... but Lilith’s were different. There was tenderness in the way her lips moved against her own, there was caution in the way she asked for permission to deepen the contact, and there was love when their tongues met, but there was yearning too, something older and painfully familiar, something that Zelda thought was lost and now was back along with her.

It was almost unbelievable how much could change in a matter of seconds, a memory awoken, a name spoken, a person - _her_ person - that came home.

«I love you so much.» Lilith murmured with a heavy voice, thick with unshed tears, when she placed yet another reverent kiss on the taut skin of her stomach, just below the sweater she’d gathered on her fist.

«I love you too, Lilith. So very much.» The redhead replied in a wheeze, another tear streaming down her cheek at the very sound of those words.

«I was about to miss all this.»

She saw Lilith crying more at the horrible possibilities of living that special moment through the eyes of another, still dormant inside a shell of skin, believing she was another person; and laughed even more, between hiccups, when her child - _her own child_ \- poked back to answer the affection. They had waited so much, lost so much, but now Lilith was there and they could have it all: Zelda could do it with her wife, as it should’ve been since the beginning; not a shadow of Lilith, not another one in her stead. _Just Lilith_. 

She kept combing through her hair when another set of deft, longing fingers searched underneath her sweater, collecting goosebumps in their wake as they trailed up, sideways, beyond, everywhere they could reach. She closed her eyes and let her wife’s voice soothe her when she whispered things in her ear: she said her name - once, twice, infinite times -, she called Zelda her wife - once, twice, infinite times -, she told her she still couldn’t wrap her head perfectly around many things, but she was aware of who she was, at last. Her heart was the one to speak because her heart was the one to know, and then she told Zelda she loved her - once, twice, infinite times - and she mixed all those things, changing their order, chanting each over and over again until the meaning got lost in the creases of time, between the crackling of the fire, becoming one with their breaths, and Lilith made up for all the times she couldn’t say any of those things, in the past months.

Clothes were shed, and in the dancing light of the fire burning in the mantle, they did not only speak of love but made it as well.

As they both laid on the couch, bodies entangled with one another, sharing heat, skin against skin, arms looping and searching, legs intertwined, shifting, moving, seeking for more, they tried to merge with each other. Souls kissings, dancing together, hands roaming messily, desperately, up to the point where neither of them knew when one began and the other ended.

Finally, familiar hands traced the outline of Zelda's face: as if her fingers were remembering quicker something that her mind had forgotten, a feather-like touch went over her hairline, dwelled on the soft slope on the bridge of her nose, and the woman closed her eyes when it crossed over her eyelids, both of them, the apples of her cheeks, the corners of her mouth, and twice, and one time more, around the rim of her lips before impatience got the best of her and Zelda kissed softly her fingertips.

And then she claimed her mouth again because she couldn’t get enough of her. Looking herself through those eyes now made her feel like she was floating on a cloud. Zelda could see herself there and recognize the love that was behind - something pure and unquestionable. The rare shade of blue she fell in love with right away, so many years ago, now exactly the same, tinged with a brighter glim when the fire sparkled, and then engulfed with a soothing blackness when it subsided.

«I thought I’d lost you forever.» She whispered, hot breath fanning the brunette’s lips, pupils blown at the dim light in which the place was bathed. «Twice.»

«Forgive me.» Lilith replied - she begged - drinking in each of those labored breaths elicited by the slow, exploring movements of her hands. « _Forgive me._ »

Salty tears gathered at the corner of her eyes and streamed down her temples as she drowned in Lilith, mind blank and so incredibly alive, folding inward and up above, blooming from the depth of her soul to higher levels; and she could feel Lilith’s heart leaping, beating in sync with her own - _against_ her own.

She loved her so much it hurt. Her touches weren’t enough, her kisses weren’t enough. Murmuring fake apologies when Lilith hissed in her ear, caught by surprise by the nails raking at her back, Zelda tried in vain to drag her even closer, flushed against her body, wanting more of her, drowning into the earthy scent of her skin, love and hurt, passion and despair, lust and guilt playing an agonizing tune within.

«I let you go.» She exhaled, short of breath, as soon as they parted from yet another kiss. «I was about to choose another in your stead.»

Lilith shushed her, her hand combing soothingly through her copper hair.

«It was me.» She assured her, even though her voice faltered. «I was there, somewhere, the entire time… I was there.»

«It wasn’t you.» Zelda slowly shook her head, blinking heavy tears away from her lashes. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she watched those familiar eyes, torn between suffocating her sorrow into her mouth or simply gaze at her, for hours, until her thoughts lost every meaning. «And I’m sorry I was weak,» she hiccuped, «but I thought you would never-»

«I’ll always come back home to you, Ginger.» The brunette interjected softly, pecking a kiss on her lips, salty and gentle.

«I know.» Zelda deepened the contact, frowning when, after a few seconds, she felt Lilith pulling back and saw only confusion and dread on her face.

«Unless, you want Mary now.» She murmured in a small voice, begging with watery eyes to be disproven.

To her own surprise, Zelda let out a breathy chuckle that made Lilith blink in utter dismay; she could only shake her head, mirroring the redhead’s movements.

«What an idiot you are.» She laughed, dropping her head forward so that their forehead were pressed together. They stood there for a long moment, gazing into each other’s eyes, breathing each other’s breath, fingers digging into soft copper locks, nails scratching at freckled skin. «I forced myself to love Mary because it seemed the right thing to do. It _was_ the right thing to do.» She swallowed, scrunched her nose. «Mary was amazing, but- she couldn’t really compare.» Zelda breathed out. «Lilith, you were the one. You _are_ the one, you are _the only_ one. You’ve always been, you always will.»

The car slowed down before reaching the last section of the driveway. The manor was already visible above the slope of the small hill, but the front yard was hidden to their eyes. Zelda could feel the tension radiating from Lilith, and when she gave her a reassuring squeeze on her knee, she also made sure to smile.

The last time she’d been there, inside her own home, among the very people she once called family, Lilith was another person. Zelda couldn’t even imagine the storm of emotions brewing inside of her.

«Are you ready?» She asked tentatively, getting lost in the bright shade of blue of her eyes.

She’d been in the passenger’s seat while she drove, in those months, but there was something about knowing that she was in the car with Lilith again, and not Mary anymore, that made her heart leap. Maybe she was simply fantasizing, but she looked better already, more comfortable, wearing her old clothes: jeans and turtleneck and her aviator jacket that, while being Mary, she’d shoved in the back of the closet. She even gripped the steering wheel differently.

«I can’t help but think,» Lilith sighed heavily, «if they liked me because they knew it was still me or because I was another person.»

The redhead tilted her head to the side. It was the question that haunted her for months and, in all honesty, she didn’t have a precise answer for that.

«I can’t speak for them.» She said sincerely. «But despite being two different people, your soul has always been one. I felt it, they must’ve felt it too.»

«I remember being Mary.» She murmured, almost guilty, her head bobbing slowly up and down. «What if they like her more now?»

«Lilith,» Zelda placed a gentle hand on her cheek, beckoning her to turn, «you don’t have to be afraid of anything: in a way, you are both. You are our old Lilith, with Mary’s memories. We loved you entirely, and we will keep loving you forever.»

«I don’t remember every single thing about my past.»

«It doesn’t matter now.» Zelda whispered, her thumb running across her cheekbone, collecting the single tear that had escaped her lashes. «You’re here, you’re back.»

«And I don’t intend going away ever again.» Lilith promised, placing a kiss on the palm of her hand before pushing on the gas pedal.

Zelda unconsciously worried at her lip when the front yard came to sight. She’d been wondering who would they meet first, who would have been the first one to receive the great news of Lilith’s comeback, and she thought it might’ve been Hilda when they would ring the doorbell and she’d come to answer and Lilith, unable to contain her joy upon seeing her family, would spoil the plan and break character right away. And yet, as soon as she saw Sabrina perched on one of the graves, munching at an apple with her book in her lap, she thought that it would be even better.

Except for herself, Sabrina had been the one to suffer the most for Lilith’s absence: the brunette had entered her life when she was still young - barely ten - and grew on her almost instantly. The fact that they clicked, was one of the many reasons for which Zelda had chosen her, in the end. Sabrina looked up to Lilith, finding in the woman the other mother figure she desperately needed to complete her own idea of family: if Zelda had lost her wife, Sabrina, for a while, had lost her mother like she’d lost her parents when she was small. Now, she was getting her back - it was only fair and just that she would be the first one to get the news.

Zelda couldn’t detach her eyes from her young face, hardly contained a smirk when she saw her frown, probably wondering what was Mary doing there, then shifted into a grimace of concern, immediately jumping down the gravestone, the apple forgotten and dropped on the ground.

«Auntie, are you alright?»

«Of course I am, darling.» Zelda replied hurriedly as she climbed out of the car.

Sabrina studied her for a hot second, probably not believing fully her words. The redhead understood that because, honestly, why would she even ask for Mary to take her home when it wasn’t the plan for the evening to have her over? So when the girl narrowed her eyes and glanced at the brunette for confirmation, she wasn’t surprised and merely followed her gaze, eager to capture the scene, ready to cherish it in the special box of precious memories in her heart.

«Mary, are you staying for dinner?» She asked suspiciously, clutching her book to her chest.

Zelda watched her wife pause. Slowly, she walked around the car, blue eyes shimmering with fresh tears as she stared at Sabrina’s face, lips curved into a smile. Sabrina stared back, frozen, and the redhead could almost see the cogs swirling under her wheat hair, wondering what was going on, wondering if the impossible had suddenly become possible.

«Oh, Brina... I've missed you so much.» Lilith breathed out, opening her arms wide.

Sabrina’s eyes lit up as everything became clear.

The book fell with a dull thud in the dirt by her feet.

The girl gasped, and in a blink of an eye, she’d leaped into the embrace, holding Lilith tight.

Zelda let them have their moment, occasionally wiping at her eyes, as if she was realizing just now that her family was getting back together, finally, completely. They weren’t simply adapting, they weren’t settling for the next best thing, they were welcoming Lilith back, their Lilith - maybe a little broken, still, but their Lilith nonetheless.

Instead of the doorbell announcing their arrival, their presence was made known by Sabrina’s happy screeches.

«Aunt Lilith’s back!» She shouted at the top of her lungs, without much ceremony, leaving very little to the imagination.

Zelda shrugged, hardly containing a laugh when she watched Sabrina rushing into the kitchen - surely to retrieve Hilda and drag her in the hallway - the remark about taking off her shoes first dying in her throat for another time.

They were still hanging their coats when the small door that led to the embalming room opened, and Ambrose emerged from it, a bloody tool wielded in his left hand, goggles on, and a dirty apron covering his naked torso.

«What bloody joke is that, cousin?» He protested, shouting to no one in particular.

Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, Zelda watched him as he took the brunette in: eyes narrowed, lips pursed and head tilted, he studied and studied and mumbled nonsense to himself. Slowly, he removed his goggles and blinked rapidly to adjust quicker, his gaze bouncing back and forth between the two women.

It was Lilith who broke the silence first.

«Always the nerd there, eh Ambrose?»

Zelda nodded when the boy turned to her to silently ask for confirmation. Mouth agape, he let out a disbelieving, breathy chuckle.

«Aunt Lilith!»

Letting the tool and the goggles fall instantly and removing his apron in one single movement, he too rushed to her, hugging her between shared, liberating laughs of happiness from both parties.

Zelda managed to contain the tears, this time, joining the general merriment when Vinegar Tom came running to her from the parlor, barking and wagging his tail to greet them. The redhead patted his head when he stood on his hind legs, easing the task for her, and then hopped in Lilith’s waiting arms when she called him over.

Vinnie had always been affectionate with Mary, barking, demanding pets and begged with a pout when she had something interesting to eat in her hands, but now that Lilith was back, even the dog interacted differently with her: licking her face with fervor, whining as he hardly contained his excitement. 

«Auntie, this is-» Ambrose gasped happily, eagerly holding Zelda and smacking a kiss on her cheek. The woman nodded, suddenly at a loss of word: she couldn’t be any luckier for having been blessed with such a family.

And then both of hers and her nephew’s chuckles subsided when they saw Sabrina emerging from the kitchen, Hilda in tow as she was being dragged rather harshly by the girl. Ambrose threw his aunt a conspiratory smirk and covered his mouth with his hand, clearing his throat.

«Stop pulling me, Sabrina!» The woman protested, though her laugh was omnipresent under the false scolding tone. «I’m coming, love.»

«She’s back!» Sabrina said happily, pointing at the brunette who was still playing with the dog, completely unaware of the pair of eyes locked on anything else but her. «She’s here!»

«I can see that!» Hilda scoffed, frowning, clearly confused by all the fuss. «Are you going to stay for dinner, Mary?»

The woman whipped her head up at that, and Zelda could see the realization of something amiss by the way her sister started to watch the brunette.

«Actually, Hilda, I was hoping to stay forever.» She countered, narrowing her eyes into a mischievous expression. «And ‘ _Lilith_ ’ might be more fitting, now.»

Hilda’s excited squeals were quickly covered by laughter coming from various directions and barks from Vinegar Tom, willing to participate despite not really getting the reason for all that noise.

«Oh love, it’s magnificent!» Hilda wheezed, conflicted between keep looking at the returned Lilith or drinking in her sister’s utter contentment now that the love of her life was back. In the end, she decided it was too much and she fled into the shelter of the kitchen, eager to start dinner. «What do you want to eat?» She asked out of breath, «your favorite? Roast? Pasta? Forget it, I’m going to cook everything and send Kenny to the grocery store tomorrow.» She mumbled, more to herself now, while walking back into the other room.

After months, they ate dinner together, the family in its entirety with no one missing or in half-broken pieces. Hilda had drowned herself in cooking to cope with her emotions and in a few hours she’d managed to outdo the richest Christmas banquet - no one finished what had landed in their plates, and Zelda complained about having to eat leftovers for the next ten days, at least.

Cee talked about one of the too many strange things that usually happened in his store, Ambrose filled Zelda with the latest news about the mortuary, and Sabrina only seldomly joined in the conversations, sad for being far too busy focusing on her upcoming test rather than being able to rejoice at the happiest event since her aunt Hilda and uncle Cee’s wedding.

They kept talking while everyone helped packing leftovers or cleaned up the table or did the dishes like it hadn’t happened in a very long time, and when the time came to retreat to their beds, Lilith leaned against the door frame on Sabrina’s room, fondly watching as Zelda bid her goodnights and wished good luck to the girl just like she’d done only a few instants before.

«Will you guys drop me off at school tomorrow?» Sabrina asked hopefully, wringing her fingers on top of the cover, her eyes captivated by a loose thread on her duvet which suddenly seemed far more interesting than anything else.

«Of course we will.» Zelda assured, asking for a silent confirmation by peeking from above her shoulder in her wife’s direction. There was still a lot to talk about, a lot of things to debate, but the children’s welfare had always come first and it was never up for discussion. «Now sleep tight, you need to rest.»

Zelda leaned down to kiss her niece’s forehead, wondering with a huff how much more the baby intended to grow before the simplest of tasks would make her feel miserable. When Sabrina gave her a soft giggle, however, she was at least glad someone would find her condition amusing. And then who knew, she could even get used to being pampered if the one looking after her was Lilith.  
Almost as if the woman could read her mind, she saw her nodding from under the door.

«Goodnight, Aunties.» Sabrina yawned, shifting deeper into her covers.

Zelda could see her wife scrunching up her face at the title without even looking and she rejoiced at every little thing finding its old place, in the end. It was the smallest details that made her realize how much of Lilith was in that house, how much of her was amiss, how much their lives were fuller now.

«Are you going to stay with Sabrina tonight, VT?» Zelda cooed, scratching the dog behind his ears when he plopped himself by the girl’s feet, his snout protectively laying on top of her leg like he always did when someone was upset or nervous about something. Goodness knew how many months he’d spent at her own heels before she could get her life back together.

«Sweet dreams, little cuz.» Sabrina slurred, turning under the cover. «Goodnight Auntie Zee.» She said, and then her grin grew impossibly wide, heavy eyes fluttering close. «Goodnight Aunt Lilith.»

The brunette scoffed automatically, then her grimace softened immediately: Sabrina might’ve missed calling her that, but she had missed being called like that even more.

«Goodnight,» She smiled, reaching out with her hand when Zelda walked to her, their hands intertwining, perfectly fitting to one another like two pieces of a puzzle, «see you tomorrow.»

In the quietness of their bedroom, Zelda couldn’t stop gazing at her wife’s face. Propped on her elbow, hand supporting her head as she laid on her side in the middle of their shared bed, Lilith was drawing loopy patterns on the redhead’s body - her neck, her chest, her arms, her belly, her thighs - and the younger woman kept staring, eager to capture every single shift in her expression.

Her fingers left goosebumps in their wake, her nails scraped deliciously in the right spots, quickly remembering all the crosses she’d drawn on the familiar map she'd traced herself during all those years.

«I love you.» Zelda murmured, heart leaping at the very sound of her own voice pronouncing those words without hesitation.

She’d tormented herself for days, teetering on the line between sanity and madness, and yet, with Lilith, they came out naturally, even on their own volition. « _I love you_.» She repeated, because it was so beautiful and liberating and because the smile that bloomed on the brunette’s lips was worth, repaying the minimum effort to the grand.

«I love you too.» Lilith murmured, leaning into her to bestow a kiss on her mouth. Unlike their previous ones, that kiss spoke of longing and desperation, this one was unhurried yet full of love anyway.

Zelda smiled at the fresh taste of toothpaste filling her mouth, together with something different that was entirely her wife.

Sighing, she let her eyes fall close when Lilith tilted her whole body forward, face nuzzling in the crook of her neck, deep buried between copper locks. The brunette shifted, curled, readjusted herself several times until she found her perfect fit against Zelda’s body, breathing in her scent - the fading tinge of expensive perfume, the flowery smell of the newly applied lotion that made her skin shiny, soft, and slippery.

Zelda’s hand roamed across her back, mapping all the creases and bumps, tracing them one by one, blindly and yet with precision, the constellation of freckles that dotted her skin. Raking her nails from her shoulder blades, she trailed down, slowly but steadily, reaching the hem of her shirt. Pausing, she bit her lip and looped her fingers under it.

In the poor light, two bright eyes shot open. Zelda tilted her head to the side only to see her wife smirking up at her, the blue of her irises almost completely engulfed by the black, blown pupils; white teeth flashed for a moment in the darkness.

«I think we have a lot to catch up.» The redhead murmured against her cheek as she laid on her side comfortably, molding her body against her wife’s as she rested on her stomach.

«And I think you’re right, as always.» Replied Lilith with a slightly slurred voice, already faltering and thick with anticipation. «I was far too patient as Mary.»

«I’m realizing now… I could never do this with someone who isn’t you. Body and mind.» Grouping the shirt into her hand, she leaned in for a kiss. When they both deepened the contact, teeth clashing and tongues chasing each other into a long known waltz, Zelda’s hand snaked down the heated skin of her back. Sensing the impatience from both parties, and eager to meet her own yearning, she started to knead at the soft flesh under her palm. She smiled with amusement, realizing she was back to her old habit of going commando.

Lilith mewled into her mouth, and the redhead greedily kissed her, drinking in every sound she made. Suckling at her bottom lip, she let her hand wander lower, down the slope of her thighs and in between them.

Smiling on her swollen mouth when she found her center, Zelda started to rub with slow, deliberate strokes, teasing her gently.

Wiggling her hips to meet the movement of her hand, Lilith resumed the kiss, hot breath clashing helplessly against her wife’s mouth, fanning her face with broken breaths, deliciously blending with husky moans.

«I dreamed about this for so long.» The brunette confessed, lips pressed on the other’s neck to help herself hold back her whines. «But I waited, and waited, and _waited_ more because I thought- I thought you weren’t ready.»

Zelda nodded in mute confirmation, moving against her, burying her nose into the luscious dark hair to breathe in the familiar scent. Collecting moisture on her fingertips, she drew even closer and edged her hand to where she knew Lilith needed her the most.

«Truth was-» She hissed against her neck, then kissed Zelda under the jaw, teeth nibbling at the pulse point only to make the other shiver in response. «I wasn’t ready either.» Arching her back, she flushed impossibly close to the heated body pressed against her own. «Any other connection would pale compared to this.»

Following the movement of her wife’s hand, her hips chasing to release the knot building tighter and tighter behind her navel, Lilith stretched her neck to kiss her again, lips sucking messily at her mouth as her lower muscles clenched and twitched pleasantly around and against her redhead’s fingers.

«I love you so much.» Zelda breathed against her lips, smiling fondly as she waited for the fleeting bleariness of pleasure in her wife’s eyes to ebb away.

Lilith blinked her eyes open, blue meeting green, both sparkling with love and lust and longing. Zelda tried again to kiss her, but this time, the brunette pulled away, teeth scraping at the bottom lip.

«Turn over.» She whispered, but despite the feeble voice, Zelda couldn’t find it in herself the strength to deny her.

Head dizzy with want and fogged in eagerness, she didn’t realize her wife was sniffling until her body came flushed against her own and the subtle jerks of her limbs made the soft crying painfully acknowledged.

One arm looping at her middle, above the swell of her stomach and below the breasts, the other slithering between her waist and the mattress, she held her wife close. Chest heaving and dropping rapidly against Zelda’s back, the brunette buried her nose in the nape of her neck, hiding in the shelter of her soft hair.

«Lilith? What’s wrong?» The younger woman called, pulling her even closer by her arms, drawing both hands to her lips, kissing her palms with tenderness. «It’s fine. Everything’s alright.» She thought of rolling over again, to kiss the tears away from her face, but Lilith’s grip was fierce, pinning her there with nowhere to go.

«You were ready to settle with a shadow of this, live a life of only half happiness because of me.» She hiccupped, hot tears running across the bridge of her nose, only to disappear between the softness of the red curls splayed beneath her head like a pillowcase.

Zelda nuzzled her face against her hands. She kissed her palms, each of her fingers, keeping them pressed to her mouth. Yes, she was indeed ready to settle down with Mary because she thought that everything else was lost, because she thought it was the right thing to do - for her family, for the baby, and even for herself.

Zelda was ready for half of the old happiness because it would’ve been better than no happiness at all.

«I could’ve lost you, Lilith.» She whispered, her own fingers playing with her wife’s - stroking, tugging, intertwining.

«I’m sorry I left you alone, suffering.» The brunette sniffled against her neck.

Zelda sighed. In the darkness of the room, she kissed once her palm again, then nudged downward, kissed her wrist, and moved even lower open lips ghosting on the soft, uneven ridge of the scar on her arm.

«I wasn’t the only one suffering, Lilith.» She murmured against her skin, placing another reverent kiss there. «And I had my family while you- you were completely alone.» She felt hot tears prickling the corner of her eyes at the memory, and bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from crying; pressing her lips together to contain a whimper, she waited for the brunette’s sniffling to ease off.

«I didn’t feel like I was alone.» Lilith murmured, pecking the hint of a kiss underneath her jaw. «You were always there. There was a part of me that never stopped loving you, and- and I felt your love, always. Your love kept me company.»

The redhead closed her eyes when she felt teeth and lips sliding down the column of her neck, Lilith bestowing kisses on her neck and shoulder that had the power to make her quiver under her touch. She flushed her chest against her back, impossibly near, and one of her hands went to play with the buttons of her blouse, popping it open one by one with efficiency despite the angle that wouldn’t allow her to see what she was doing. The silky material was quickly replaced by deft fingers, gently stroking and kneading at the rounded flesh of her breasts.

Zelda shivered, feeling suddenly shy when she heard Lilith's soft giggle of approval at the gained heaviness she found, and the redhead felt herself blush even more when her wife hummed satisfied at the tenderness of her nipples, swiftly reacting to the slightest of touches. She didn’t know how or why, but Lilith shushed her, tutting gently against her shoulder, and the insecurity vanished: it was different, but it was all the same; and within her wife’s comforting hold, she was safe and home.

Zelda sighed, let herself relax under Lilith’s attentive ministrations, and let her head float, let it be engulfed by the promised bliss.

The brunette kissed her shoulder again, moving against her, the other hand finishing what the other had started, popping open the last buttons that made the blouse fall open completely; it hanged between their bodies, purposeless now, but she couldn’t bother tugging it away, because it would’ve meant detach from one another, and even if it would be for a moment, it was simply unthinkable.

A slender knee began to stroke behind her legs, then nudged between them, urging Zelda to part her thighs. Once she indulged her and Lilith’s knee stayed comfortably seated - and trapped - between those of Zelda, the brunette let her hand slide easily past the band of her panties to cup her wife underneath the damp fabric.

«If I have to be honest,» Lilith whispered against her shoulder, teeth grazing at the taut skin as she began to rub firmer circles, «I dreamt about this, specifically.»

Zelda felt her lips tightening into a smile against her.

«When?» She asked, voice faltering, blending into a moan.

«At night.» The other replied. «Dreams, or memories- so vivid they woke me up and thought about you.» She sank her teeth into the soft flesh of Zelda’s shoulder, eliciting a whimper that she wasn’t actually sure whether it was from the sudden sting of pain or pleasure when she slipped into her core.

Zelda could feel her gathering rhythm, the sensitivity that cursed her body in the last few months bringing her quickly on the edge; she floated there, for what felt too much or too little time, balancing on the thin line. She blindly reached behind, fingers digging into the wild mane of dark hair.

Lilith kept her close when she felt her tense against her body, careful not to cross the border and overwhelm her. She kissed her shoulder, soothing the small, reddish bruise blooming on her skin, then kissed her neck, her jaw, her cheeks, her hair, everywhere she could reach until she felt Zelda grow heavier and slump against her chest. She drew away from her, held her tighter than she should’ve, perhaps, in the utopian illusion she could become one with her wife.

When their breaths became shallower, Lilith pulled the covers on top of them, arms still looping around the redhead’s body, hands snaking over her hips, waist, across the expanse of her stomach, chuckling fondly when she felt the lively activity happening under the taut skin against her palm.

Zelda brought her own hands there, fingers intertwining with her wife’s. She sighed contentedly, letting her eyes flutter close.

«Can’t wait to meet the little demon.» Lilith breathed against the shell of her ear, pecking a soft kiss there for good measure before falling back into her pillow, face nuzzling into the nape of the redhead’s neck. «Thank you, by the way.»

Zelda frowned, shifting comfortably within the embrace.

«For what?»

«For keeping the gender a surprise.»

The younger woman nodded, smiling into the darkness.

«I knew you’d liked it this way.» She smiled, turning her neck as far as it would allow her when she felt Lilith leaning in for a kiss. It was passionate, at first, and then it got softer, tender, quieter, bearing the taste of goodnights and forever.

«I love you, Zelda.» She sighed against her neck. «Tomorrow we’ll wake up and it will be as though these past eight months never occurred.»

«Not exactly.» The redhead replied with a happy giggle, which soon infected Lilith as well. «But I’ll wake up in your arms as it should be.»

«You will,» the brunette agreed, «tomorrow and all the days to come.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote insp.: "You were the one, you were the only one, and you were amazing." - Gia Carangi (Gia, 1998)  
> Soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hxADTEJalRw
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think: I really need your support. **Make me happy!** Thank you ♡


	31. On mending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for updates and extras about my stories: lamarwy_ao3

**Chapter 31 - On mending**

Munching contentedly on her steaming chocolate croissant, Zelda tried her best to ignore once again the glare Lilith had thrown from above her paper cup of coffee.

Hardly containing a diverted smirk, and concealing the twitch of her lips by taking another bite, the redhead took a long sigh and threw her head back, closing her eyes as the sunbeams warmed her face: it was early March, the air was still chilly, but the sun was pleasant, especially in Riverdale. They didn’t go there for a pleasure trip, of course, but there was no reason to enjoy an outing together, which was precisely what Zelda was trying to do; the fact the Lilith wasn’t in the mood to join her completely, though, was getting irritating. Irritating, and extremely funny, on the other hand, because the childish pout on her mouth made her utterly adorable and it was rather difficult to take her vexation seriously.

«I know you don’t like it, but it’s for the baby.» She breathed out, eyes still close as she stared at the orange hue of her eyelids. «And for me, I might add.»

She heard Lilith drag her chair closer, then smiled when she felt her hand covering her own, both resting now on her prominent bump; a light weight settled on her shoulder, and suddenly, fluffy hair tickled her neck.

«I know that.» Lilith mumbled against her skin, but judging by how her voice had sounded, it was clear she was still pouting.

Zelda giggled, licking her lips to wipe away any trace of chocolate - though she was mildly aware of the crumbs of croissants lying at either corner of her mouth.

«Then stop thinking that birth classes are ridiculous for a moment and focus on our combined wellbeing. Besides, we will be relieved from it in less than a month-»

«It’s not that!» Lilith rebuked, clearly offended.

When she pulled away, rather harshly, the redhead snapped her eyes open, jaw hanging as she silently wondered what had gotten into her wife to suddenly act so enraged: sitting stiffly in her chair with her arms crossed she was staring with intensity down at her feet.

«What _is_ the problem?» Zelda frowned. «I thought you were glaring at me because I dragged you here.»

«Partially.» The brunette admitted. «But it’s not the main reason.»

Zelda narrowed her eyes.  
«Then what is the main reason?»

«The person hosting the class.» Lilith scoffed, matter-of-factly, uncrossing and crossing her arms again over her chest, as if to underline her point.

«You didn’t like Marie?» The other wondered, disbelief clearly written all over her face. «I thought she was good.» She commented. «Reliable and attentive, and-»

«She was _hitting_ on you!» Lilith blurted out, eyebrow pinched in the middle of her forehead with such intent, her wife thought they would be stuck there forever.

Zelda really didn’t want to laugh, since the brunette genuinely seemed upset about it, but the situation was far too amusing on her part, that the chuckle erupted from the back of her throat without any hope to stop nor quench it.

«I’m glad you find it funny.» Lilith mumbled, gulping down the last sip of coffee before slamming the paper cup on the table in front of her.

«Lilith, are you being serious right now?»

The brunette scoffed sharply, blue eyes wide and jaw slacked.

«Enlighten me, in what perverse universe could we pass as sisters?»

Zelda bit the inside of her cheek to prevent her giggle to make itself known, but she failed miserably when the recent memory popped out in her mind: Marie approaching them and sitting on her haunches by the mat, briefly talking about Prudence and her aptitude for this profession, and then mirthfully showering them - yes, she’d mainly referred to Zelda, but she simply thought it was because she was the pregnant one of the two - with questions about the pregnancy and the birth plan, which still needed to be discussed in details, and then Marie complimented them because it was lovely for sisters to have such a strong bond. Zelda had carved in her head the way Lilith’s eyes had widened in clear outrage, and if she focused enough, she could even hear her voice answering back, loud and angry, when Marie proceeded to wonder if the father was busy: _'there’s no daddy, I’m the daddy!_ ’; which had Zelda blush profusely and Marie blurt out hurried apologies between laughs.

«Riverdale is slightly more evolved, but it’s still a small town, these things are rare. Might I remind you how many years passed before people stopped staring at us when we were out hand in hand?» The redhead tried to reason, tilting her head toward her wife with a soft expression she hoped would work to calm her wife too. «It was an honest mistake.»

«Zelda!» She whined, instead, clearly far from being calm, «She was all over you even after that. _Especially_ after that… literally touching you everywhere.»

«But it’s her job, Lilith.»

«To help deliver babies, yes, not to flirt with the expectant mothers.»

The younger woman sighed, one hand running unconsciously across the expanse of her stomach, the other rubbing her forehead; the careless amusement for the peculiar situation was ebbing away, turning into a rather unpleasant throbbing settling right behind her eyes. She hoped Lilith was joking, pointing something that she didn’t particularly like in a funny way, but now she was realizing that her wife was being totally serious, that she had no intention whatsoever to drop the argument until she was satisfied.

«Lilith, she wasn’t flirting with me.» Zelda countered. «And to be honest, I felt comfortable with how attentive she was.»

«Tell that to the other couples who got close to zero attention.» The brunette scoffed again. «Mademoiselle Marie ended up buzzing around us quite a lot.»

«Maybe she was flirting with you.» Zelda rebuked, mirroring her wife’s behavior and folding her arms on her chest.

«Yeah, right.» The other mumbled dismissively.

«You’re being childish.»

«And you’re being naive.»

Zelda sucked in a mouthful of air.

«I beg your pardon?» Eyes wide, she glared over Lilith, who was peeking at her with the corner of her eyes, her vexed expression already shifting toward a sheepish, slightly contrite grimace.

«I didn’t mean-»

«Since when wanting to provide our child with the best possible midwife in the country is being naive?» The redhead glared. «Might I also remind you that Marie is highly qualified and has a lot of expertise in risky deliveries? In case you’ve forgotten, this thing could turn from _very good_ to _very bad_ in an instant and I don’t want to-»

«Fine!» Lilith snapped, clearly eager to cut off the rant. «Zelda, you know all I care about is your safety.» She sighed, rubbing her forehead. «The safety of you both.» She added with a softer voice, perching her elbow on the chair’s arm to scoot closer once again. «But I really didn’t like her. There was something… _sketchy_ about her, you know I’m never wrong about people.»

Zelda slowly gazed at her, keeping her straight face for a few moments before the slight twitch of her wife’s lips, hesitantly curving into a pout, triggered something within her and had her helplessly smile. Yes, Lilith hardly had the wrong impression about people, and despite her own impression about the New Orlean midwife - which had been anything but good - it seemed vitally important for the brunette to reconsider entrusting her own life, as well as the baby’s, in her hands.

«Well, if that’s how you feel.» The redhead shrugged once, trying to shrink on herself when she found enveloped into her wife’s tight embrace, her mouth peppering kisses on her face with the sole intent to make her frown disappear. Needless to say, it worked.

«Mademoiselle Marie can’t be the _only_ qualified midwife in the country.» Lilith tried to reason, the tip of her nose running along the column of her neck.

Zelda scoffed and rolled her eyes dramatically.

«But one of the best.» She countered, then took a small sigh. «Fine, alright, we’ll find another one that both of us like.»

«Thank you, Ginger.» She said happily, licking a crumb off the corner of her mouth and then suffocating her protests for being in public with a searing kiss on the lips.

«Mary was much easier to deal with.» The redhead quipped, returning a soft kiss.

«First Marie, then Mary, you’re not helping with my jealousy… and I clearly see a pattern with names.»

Zelda shook her head.

« _Idiot_.»

They were already out and they just had their first fight in months - with Mary it was almost impossible to fight: the woman far too understanding, sweet, and meek to even think about berating her - and the adrenaline was rushing through their veins.  
It had been liberating, in a way, and despite the anger they both felt, it was like finding back a lost piece of themselves. After all, it was healthy to fight over whatever topic or even pursue some animated bickering, from time to time. And it was reassuring to know, at least for Zelda, that she was back with her wife, not only someone who loved her, but someone who considered her equal.

Established that neither one of them really wanted to end their trip to Riverdale on an unpleasant note, Zelda phoned Hilda to warn her that they wouldn’t be home for dinner, and reminded her to watch the kids because, yes, it was a Friday night, but it would’ve been inconvenient for them to sleep through Saturday when a lot of things could be done instead, like helping her out clean the whole house - again -, or fix up the yard - again -, or baby-proof every dangerous corner or edge in each room despite they wouldn’t have to deal with a walking nor a crawling toddler for at least six or seven months more. It was then that Lilith snatched the phone from her wife’s grasp, told Hilda to leave everyone be, and hung up the call.

«Did you really have to do that?» Zelda pouted, looking at her through an intense frown as they strolled side by side.

«Yes, you’ll drive everyone insane.» Lilith countered, though a smile was plastered on her lips. «We all love you so much, but this nesting issue is getting out of hands.»

«But-»

«We’ve got everything under control.» The brunette reminded her, proceeding with a very detailed list about all the things that they already sorted out, including a report about how she and Cee redecorated the nursery - again, she hadn’t been allowed to enter the room yet due to the poisonous air of the wall paint - and then she talked about the new furniture they ordered, which were scheduled to arrive that same week, and also about all the things every newborn might need, most of which were already at their disposal and the rest about to be delivered under their porch by the mailman on duty - or thrown to their porch, more likely, since Vinegar Tom had the nasty habit of barking like a mad dog from his one-foot height, managing to successfully scare everyone away, which was surprising.

They strolled around downtown until Lilith persuaded Zelda to admit she was tired and, gathering all the shopping bags they’d collected during the many trips to each store that could have something remotely interesting inside - in the end, every single store proved to have something definitely interesting inside and the ridiculous amount of bags that Lilith was carrying was the proof of that - they headed to the car, both extremely satisfied by the purchases.

«Rocko’s diner?» Proposed the brunette with innocence, although her eyes were already glimmering in anticipation.

«Naughty.» Zelda quipped. «You want to betray our brother-in-law?»

«I’m feeling _extremely_ naughty, this evening.» Lilith countered, a mischievous grin blossoming on her mouth. «Besides, he doesn’t have to know.»

«Rocko’s diner.» The redhead agreed, silently asking whether that sparkle in her eyes was pure excitement about trying something she craved for so long or something else entirely.

It took them only five minutes to reach their destination, and in five more they were sitting side by side in a secluded booth that resembled one of Cee’s but that was also different. They inspected the menu and made comments about the 50s vibes and both concluded that Dr. Cerberus was far more intriguing than a plain vintage diner without a library attached, nor peculiar horror merchandise scattered around everywhere.  
They were about to make funny comments about the food as well, but there were limits beyond their lies couldn’t go: the food was tasty, and even Zelda, who usually would’ve complained because she wasn’t yet allowed to have real food but had to stick with low-fat meals and sugar-free anything, was enjoying her grilled chicken, occasionally picking at the plate of shared fries that Lilith had officially ordered for herself and unofficially for the redhead.

«You know,» Zelda sighed, leaning back on the padded bench, lazily munching on a fry, «this could be our first date in a really, _really_ long time.»

The brunette choked on her water as she realized that her wife was indeed correct: as Mary, she’d gone out quite a lot with Zelda - shopping trips, teas in the cottage, dinners at the Spellman manor, and, yes, there had been that one time when they bumped into each other and had lunch together - but an actual dinner, out in a restaurant which was outside Greendale too, just the two of them, was different.

«I used to take you out on a date each month after we got married. It’s a lot of dates. And a lot to catch up too.» The brunette wiggled her eyebrows as she swallowed another bite of her burger. «We should resume the tradition, especially after the little demon is born. Hell knows we’ll need some time for ourselves.» She muttered, hand patting gently on the side of her wife’s bump in a silent apology as she implicitly confessed her eagerness to already desert her duty as parent, if the motif of such desertion was worthy, of course - and Zelda was.

«I suppose you’re not simply talking about the monthly dinner.» Zelda prompted, shaking her head when she saw the mischievous smirk on Lilith’s lips again.

«You would be right to think that I was referring more to the after-dinners in my cottage.» She said, lowering her voice, scooting imperceptibly closer to Zelda, trapping her body even more between her own and the wood panel on the wall.

The brunette pecked a kiss on the corner of her mouth and Zelda giggled, a fair blush on the apple of her cheeks, as she tasted the salty crystals that her wife had shed from her lips.

«I would definitely love that.» She replied, taking a sip from her glass of water.

They continued eating their meals, occasionally throwing each other glances, talking about everything that went through their minds, discussing whether to buy Sabrina a car for her diploma so she could come and go freely from college - wherever she had decided to apply - and bickered some more about baby names, proposedly choosing only obnoxious ones with the sole intent on making the other angry and then laugh together as they decided who had pouted the most or gasped the loudest in utter outrage.

Both lazily fishing in the fries bucket, they were trying to delay calling it a night despite being both exhausted.

«Look at them.» Lilith growled, eyes narrowed, staring with a disgusted grimace at the group of teens who had just entered the diner. «Full of energies at this hour.» She complained, not-so-silently mourning the past years of her youth. «If I could turn back-»

«Would you?» Zelda wondered, eyebrow cocked in surprise. «Go back to when you didn’t know me?»

«You’re right.» The brunette agreed with a dramatic nod. «Still, I miss those years.»

«I don’t.» The other replied with a long sigh. «It was horrible and unpleasant and scary and I felt out of place all the time.» She paused, shaking her head a little when she overheard one of those teens conspiring about doing something reckless which, of course, he would’ve kept from his parents. It was like seeing one of her worst fears unfold before her eyes.

«Ambrose and Sabrina dealt with adolescence like pros, thanks to you.» Lilith reminded her with a soft voice, almost as if she could read her thoughts. «You don’t have to worry about our child, and besides, it won’t happen in a long time.» Lilith chuckled fondly, kissing her jaw just to ward away one of those tense expressions that, as of late, tended to contort her wife’s fair features quite a lot, whenever she thought about the future, whatever the scenario.

«Perhaps you’re right.» She commented, barely above a whisper, glaring at the teens when they left with their burgers and hotdogs in their hands. If only she could warn their parents... «The children were wonderful, but they both had their moments- remember that time Sabrina ran off from home in the middle of the night?»

«Of course, she came straight to me.» Lilith nodded, a cheeky smile spreading on her lips, which did not falter even when her wife playfully slapped her upper arm.

«Don’t brag about it.» Zelda scolded.

«But she loves me so.» The brunette quipped. «Just like you.»

The redhead narrowed her eyes, teeth pricking at the inside of her cheek.

«If this little demon takes after you, it’s over.» She asserted.

«Come on now,» Lilith almost purred, almost deaf to her complaints. Scooting even closer, she kissed her jaw again, then her neck, dangerously close to her pulse point, making Zelda shudder, «being a teen it’s not all drama and agony… it’s also the most _terrific fun_ every now and again.»

Green eyes darted around the diner as if to expect someone throwing judging glares in their direction. Instead, all the waiters were busy, the clients were minding their meals or chatting amiably, and their corner booth was even pretty isolated. Zelda swallowed, shivering at the hot breath fanning the shell of her ear.

«I don’t like that look.» She noted, voice low. «You’re about to do something naughty.» She bit her bottom lip to conceal a grin, the perfect mix of curiosity and reticence, but whatever the meaning behind that gesture, it didn’t go unnoticed.

«I told you I was feeling naughty.» Lilith confirmed, grinning back.

A pause, a shared glance. All the background noises melted into an undefined buzz when Zelda felt her hand drop on her leg, fingers unabashedly squeezing where her knee met her thigh.

Lilith’s blue eyes never blinked, boring into her.

« _Here_?» The word fell out from her lips before she could even realize what she was doing. Zelda didn’t mean to sound surprised in an intrigued way, nor to widen her eyes in a way that made her wife’s gaze sparkle, but she did both, apparently. «Lilith, if someone sees us.» She hissed, the next warning trapped behind her teeth when she felt the brunette’s nails raking up her leg, shifting smoothly in between.

«A wrap skirt.» Lilith said, managing to make it sound closely strange to a praise. «If I didn’t know better I’d say you were expecting it.»

Zelda swallowed, the rational reply explaining she was wearing it because it was practical and comfortable fading in the back of her brain when warm fingers slipped under the outer fold, easily finding her skin. She pressed her lips together a little too late to prevent a small yelp when Lilith squeezed again on the inside of her bare thigh.

«Stop it or everyone will know.» The brunette grinned, reaching out one of the menus with her free hand and opening it in front of them with a quick flick of her wrist. She rested the bottom of it on the table and efficiently hid both of them behind the tall pages.

«Lilith, you can’t-» Came the weak protest, though her body fought against her will and her words, and she unconsciously - or not-so-unconsciously - shifted closer to the edge of her seat.

«I can and I will.» The brunette countered, placing another kiss on the shell of her ear. «But do try not making it too obvious.» She advised, hands traveling upward, far too slow for the redhead’s likings. Her knees parted just enough to accommodate her hand as it glided on the tender flesh of her thighs, swiftly reaching where her legs met.

Jerking upright, one hand tightening on the menu, the other gripping the edge of the seat, in the narrow place that was left between them, Zelda hardly suppressed a whimper when the brunette boldly cupped her through the thin cotton of her knickers. She threw a sideways glare, only to meet a smug grin in return, as Lilith studied her face from up close, completely unfocused on reading the menu as she should’ve been - as they both should’ve been. It was an unnegotiated premise to be pretending to read the menu, but neither of them seemed too keen on respect it, both simply glad for the object to be tall and wide enough to shield their faces from the rest of the restaurant.

Lilith barely moved her hand, only applying the slightest pressure, while her mouth traveled down, softly pecking kisses on Zelda’s jaw and neck. When the tension disappeared from her body, the woman gradually leaning more and more against the other, Lilith began to tease her through the fabric.

Because she’d grown incredibly sensitive those last few days - and they had plenty of occasions to monitor the changes and act consequently, studying and readjusting until they reached a satisfying new balance - the mellowed stimulation was just as effective as direct contact, if not even more comfortable for Zelda, and it only took a couple of minutes for her breathing pattern to change, and the bloodstream to pump quicker in her veins, pulsing deliciously under Lilith’s lips, which were still on her neck, eagerly drinking in every shudder.

She kissed the corner of her mouth and then her arm went to circle Zelda’s shoulders, wrapping her, bringing her flush against her body, drawing her even closer. The younger woman tilted her head to the side, face buried in the crook of her neck and the hand gripping the seat gripping her wife’s knee, instead, squeezing in rhythm with the subtle rocking of her hips.

Deft fingers went to card through copper hair as she held her tight, lips peppering kisses on the small portion of the face and neck still exposed, down to the slope of her shoulder. Lilith chased her movements, unable to stop the widening of her grin when she recognized the familiar twitch of her legs as they began to squeeze at her wrist. Erratic pants fanned her neck, her chest through the sweater, and when she heard Zelda’s breath catch, her upper half growing stiffer, she only mildly slowed her movements, kissing the tip of her nose when her wife pulled away just enough to glare and huff in frustration.

«The waiter’s coming.» Lilith said simply, justifying her actions.

Zelda made her best effort to compose herself, sitting into a more acceptable and straight position, the hand squeezing the brunette’s knee gravitating upward on her bump to, at least, trying to soothe the lively activity of the baby.

She thought Lilith would’ve pulled away, snaked her hand from under the folds of her skirt, or at least stilled her movements, but she did nothing of those things; if anything, she kept rubbing against her skin through the damp fabric, applying a slight more pressure that had Zelda’s green eyes wide in panic.

«Lilith-» She protested, swallowing when her voice came out strangled.

In response, the brunette now really seemed to focus on the menu, lips pursed and apparently disengaged completely from the ministrations happening just below the table, concealed from everyone’s eyes as if that hand didn’t belong to her.

«Shall we order that cake slice for Sabrina?» She asked casually, without tearing her eyes from the menu.

« _Stop_.» Zelda hissed, voice low and dangerous. She shifted uncomfortably on her seat now, trying to squirm away, but Lilith followed. «You’re wicked.» She snarled, hoping that the warmth crawling on her cheeks and neck, directly from her depths, wouldn’t be too noticeable.

«I think we should.» Lilith went on, completely deaf to her wife’s weak pleadings.

Zelda clamped her thighs together in a desperate attempt to trap her wife’s hand, but if anything, she brought her even closer to her core; an unpleasant heat settled firmly in her cheeks and tried to avoid the waiter’s gaze when he marched toward their table with intent, clearly about to engage a conversation. Whether it was to ask if they needed anything or to kindly warn her that they should just stop that reprehensible behavior in a public place, at their ages and with a baby on the way, the redhead didn’t want to look at him nor let her blushing and stuttering speak in her behalf providing a proofs confession.

«You’re alright, ma’am?»

Despite the compromising sight being concealed under the table, Zelda felt like dying; she knew the young man was talking directly to her, and not to Lilith, who was peacefully studying the desserts, completely cool. The redhead gave a sharp nod, hoping he would lose interest and move on with the purpose of his intrusion.

«Hot flashes.» Lilith answered for her, out of the blue, her voice dismissive and yet perfectly controlled. «The pregnancy, you know.» She commented, eyes moving fast on the parade of pastries and cakes. «She’s fine.»

Zelda felt the need to confirm those words, but she didn’t trust herself, nor the hand trapped between her thighs, which was currently wiggling deliciously around, hitting all the right spots despite the whole situation, so she just stood silent.

Seemingly convinced, the waiter cleared his throat and pulled out his pad.

«Can I bring you anything else?»

«Yes.» Lilith hummed, once again studying the menu despite the redhead knowing she’d already made up her mind about her order. «My wife would like to order the chocolate cake.» She paused, took a breath, then tilted her up to the waiter. Zelda was close to shout why would she had to torture her like that and make that damn order take forever. «To go, for our very smart girl back home who got an A just today.»

«Congratulations!» The guy winked, scribbling down with his pen.

«Yes, indeed, we are very proud.» Lilith grinned and nodded.

Now it was blatantly clear she was doing it on purpose and a mild annoyance was adding to Zelda’s frustration.

«Anything else?»

«Just the bill, thank you.» Lilith added, finally, dismissing the waitress.

When she turned her head back, the redhead still clutching at the menu, she made sure to greet her darling wife with a prominent glare, to which she chuckled. Zelda opened her mouth to protest, but made the terrible - or not so terrible - mistake to loosen the grip of her legs around the brunette’s hand, which immediately began to move, brushing and stroking, faster and with an acquainted pace, knocking the words out of her lungs.

«See, we didn’t get caught.» Lilith blew on her lips, leaning in to press their mouths together into a searing kiss, which the redhead promptly returned, gladly muffling her yelps between her wife’s lips. «You’re so beautiful all flushed,» she grinned against the apple of her cheek, nibbling at the supple flesh she found there, «and I love you so.» Once again, she tugged her body close to hers, lips trailing on her cheeks back up to her ear.

«I love you too.» Whimpered Zelda, stifling her moans in the crook of her neck, nose buried in the dark mane of hair that smelled of perfume and white musk. She held Lilith, her free hand blindly wrapping at her middle, crumpling her sweater into a tight fist as the redhead felt the familiar, warm pressure begin to build behind her navel.

Unseen, above her head, the brunette smiled, eyes closed, lost herself in the moment when nothing else existed - people, places, time - just them as the centre of the whole universe.

«Let go.» She whispered in her ear, cradling the nape of her neck, fingers dug deep in between her copper curls. Lilith held her tight, flushed against her as she shuddered, rocked her through her peak, covered her muffled whimpers with soft tuts.

Biting down her own lips, she loosened her hold, waiting for Zelda to catch her breath and relax before leaning back into her seat, a complacent smirk plastered on her lips. Innocently, she watched Zelda leaning back as well, still blushing and panting, and reached down underneath the table, smothering the crumpled folds of the skirt for her. Then she pulled her sweater down and erased all traces of some mischievous deed that just happened.

Waiting for her wife to prompt to unleash the comment, Zelda drew a breath and shook her head.

«You’re going to regret this.» She hissed, voice still husky with the aftermath.

Lilith crossed her arms over her chest, put one leg on top of the other, and shifted more comfortably on the padded cushions of her seat.

«No,» she grinned, «I don’t think I will.»

The redhead narrowed her eyes: if that was a challenge, then Zelda gladly accepted it. On the way home, she made sure the ride was as tormenting as possible for her Lilith, with her left hand casually buried between her wife’s thighs, playing relentlessly with the seam of her trousers.

«I hate you.» Lilith croaked out, voice thick and hoarse, both of her hands gripping the steering wheel white knuckles.

Zelda smirked, utterly pleased with herself, and kept her eyes on the dark road.

«No, you don’t.» She countered, well aware her wife wouldn’t dare argue with that.

The following morning, after they all ate their breakfast and settled the plan for a lazy family day indoors to watch a movie and enjoy Saturday together, Lilith collected both hers and Zelda’s mugs.

Maybe it had been a little inattention, maybe it had been fate sending the longed for message, but when she found herself a few steps from the sink, she banged her toes in one of the chairs.  
Muttering obscenities under her breath, she struggled to find back her balance, but her hand quivered, and one of the spoons dropped to the floor with a cadenced, stretched chime.

Lilith wondered why everyone had fallen silent all of the sudden.

Zelda and Hilda exchanged a wide-eyed glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A teeny tiny cliffhanger 😇 ~~cause we all know what's about to come except for babey Lilith. Bless her.~~  
>  Please leave a comment and let me know what you think: I really need your support. **Make me happy**! Thank you ♡


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